


Slowly Falling Down

by RachelAnneWrites



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Depression, F/F, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Multi, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:40:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 23,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22459660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelAnneWrites/pseuds/RachelAnneWrites
Summary: When Sister Evangelina died, there was only a slight mention of the grief that Shelagh felt. What if there was more that happened behind the scenes. What if Shelagh found herself on a slippery slope, slowly falling further and further down?
Relationships: Bernadette | Shelagh Turner & Angela Turner, Bernadette | Shelagh Turner & Angela Turner & Timothy Turner, Bernadette | Shelagh Turner & Julienne, Bernadette | Shelagh Turner & Patrick Turner, Bernadette | Shelagh Turner & Timothy Turner, Bernadette | Shelagh Turner/Patrick Turner
Comments: 48
Kudos: 28





	1. A Storm Brews

**Author's Note:**

> I'm playing around with some different themes that have already been explored in Call the Midwife, as I am a newbie to writing fanfiction. I don't own Call The Midwife, the characters, or the storylines I'm using. I'm merely crafting something with previously created characters. I'm sorry if I accidentally plagiarize someone else's work- If I have PLEASE let me know ASAP! I promise I don't bite!

September 1961 was rough for Shelagh Turner, and it started with an unexpected phone call from a very distraught Sister  
Julienne.

“Turner Residence, Mrs. Turner speaking.”

  
“Shelagh, my dear its Sister Julienne- I’m afraid we need Dr. Turner at Nonnatus right away.”

  
“Of course, Sister is Sister Monica Joan ill again”

“I’m afraid not, you might want to sit down when I tell you this. It’s Sister Evangelina, I’m afraid our dear Fred found her this morning. We think she passed peacefully overnight.”

  
“Oh sister, I’m so sorry! I’ll get Patrick to come ‘round first thing.”

  
“Thank you, Shelagh. Shelagh, if you want to come over, we will all welcome you with open arms.”

  
“Thank you, Sister. I appreciate the offer, although I might not take you up on it. I’m going to fetch Patrick now.”

“Goodbye, my dear Shelagh.”

  
“Goodbye, sister.”

  
It wasn’t until several weeks later that the enormity of Sister Julienne’s words fully affected Shelagh. But at that moment, her priority was to fetch Patrick to get the answers that Sister Julienne needed.  
“Patrick, I’m afraid you’re needed at Nonnatus House. It’s Sister Evangelina, she’s gone, Patrick.” Shelagh wasn’t aware that while she had tried to hide the emotions that she was slowly beginning to feel within, her voice, eyes, facial expression had begun to betray her.

  
“I’ll be on my way then. I’ll stop at Nonnatus before I make morning rounds”, he told her with a calming smile.

  
The only fathomable place that Shelagh could imagine being at that moment was at the Surgery, even if it was just taking care of the morning post and organizing records. Then came the Distaval letter. The letter that launched everyone, grieving or not, into action to determine the effect on the Poplar community. With the focus away from grief and processing for the moment, no one noticed the slippery slope that Shelagh Turner was on.

  
A storm was brewing, and only Shelagh would find herself caught in it. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t do it alone. She was slowly falling down a steep slippery slope. The slope of grief left unrecognized, unacknowledged by the person suffering. Grief that had been stuffed away in favor of saving the people of Poplar from more heartbreak. Shelagh wasn't even aware that she had stuffed her grief down until it was nearly too late- but because of those she loved, she would be saved from the worst of the storm.


	2. Decent

It wasn’t until Sister Evangelina’s funeral that Shelagh found it within herself to cry. Still, her feelings may not have driven her tears. After Reverend Herewood’s excellent service, coupled with the hearse and Sister Monica Joan’s tribute, not a single person in attendance had dry eyes, including Shelagh.  
By the end of the day, her tears were dry, but the painful grief was sinking further in. The pain raging within her should have been unbearable to hide within, but she couldn’t let her patients down. The only thing Shelagh could fathom doing was returning to the task of following the Distaval Trail and caring for Patrick and the Children. Several weeks later, when the sleepless nights started, she made no connection between them and her grief for Sister Evangelina. As the days passed, she found it easier to be at work or home than at Nonnatus House, where the nurses and the sisters were openly embracing the grieving process.   
With the children kept her busy, she didn’t have to think about the gaping hole hat hurt in her heart. When she was working, she continued the vocation she had shared with her late Sister by bringing babies into the world safely, whether at a Home Birth or the Maternity Home. When she was at home, there were household chores to be done as well as keeping after Timothy and Angela to keep her mind off Sister Evangelina’s absence.  
Suddenly, it was in the quiet moments that it was hardest to keep composure. Still, everyone else had moved past Sister Evangelina’s death. Shelagh couldn’t help but ask herself one afternoon why she hadn’t yet moved along like everyone else. Why was this death so much harder than any other poplar death? It was that afternoon that Shelagh decided it was time to put her personal feelings of grief away deep inside and continue as though nothing had happened.  
Sister Evangelina’s death wasn’t the only crisis that Poplar was enduring; Distaval had caused numerous deaths and deformities in babies. At that moment, the most critical tasks for Shelagh were caring for her family and assisting Patrick in his Doctor Watson mission against Distaval.   
The next morning, she began a routine of telling herself that her grief had addressed, and it was time to focus on work and family. The clouds had started to roll in, and they obstructed the realities of grief that Shelagh knew full well.  
Grief wasn’t temporary, nor was it pain-free or selfish. Grief was natural, and Shelagh’s stemmed from a decade long sisterhood as well as the respect and love that Shelagh had for Sister Evangelina. This grief would follow Shelagh for the rest of her life. For now, it was easier to wake up in the morning and pretend to be happy than it would be to address how she felt and what had happened.  
Shelagh was slipping into depression. Depression that would control every moment of her life until addressed. Depression that would distort her self-image until she hated every inch of her physical being, steal the joy from her life, and ultimately cause more significant problems in the future.  
That would be until Patrick made a critical observation one quiet afternoon a few months later. A view that, when combined with a conversation with Timothy and further consideration, would illuminate the pain that Shelagh was enduring. But would he be able to catch it in time? Would Patrick be able to find Shelagh before she fell into the jaws of depression for life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out to those who left comments and kudos on Chapter 1! I apologize for the delay in Chapter 2, that's college (Uni) life.


	3. A Revelation

Shelagh was slipping into depression. Depression that would control every moment of her life until addressed. Depression that would distort her self-image until she hated every inch of her physical being, steal the joy from her life, and ultimately cause more significant problems in the future.  
It wasn't unusual for Sister Julienne to stop Patrick after Clinic to discuss cases, especially with the realization of Distaval's effects on development. This day, however, he could sense different energy when she stopped him. 

  
"Doctor Turner, I was wondering if I might have a word after Clinic?"

  
"Of course, any particular case you need information or consultation on?"

  
"Not exactly, it's more of a personal matter."

  
"Oh, alright. I'll meet you in the kitchen for a cup of tea after Clinic."

  
Although Sister Julienne had been calm while talking to him, Patrick could feel underlying stress and worry hidden within. Throughout Clinic, his idle thoughts wandered to what Sister Julienne might want to discuss. He never imagined what he would hear. Sister Julienne asks him that afternoon.

  
"Good Afternoon, Sister, successful Clinic today. What was it you wanted to speak about today."?

"Patrick, you might want to sit down as we discuss this."

  
The use of his given name and her request for him to sit down struck great fear into his heart. 

  
"Has Shelagh embraced grieving at home? She hasn't come around to Nonnatus since the funeral, and I hoped that she was processing at home, but her eyes suggest otherwise."

  
Then came the reality. Patrick realized that Shelagh hadn't taken the time to grieve Sister Evangelina, and he honestly wondered when the last time that she had been to Nonnatus for tea was. He knew that she didn't fall asleep easily at night, and when she achieved sleep, it wasn't a restful sleep. Patrick also then realized that although Shelagh made her usual meals for the family, she often would eat none or very little of what she made and would claim that she 'wasn't hungry.' Shelagh was in trouble, even if she didn't notice or couldn't acknowledge it for herself. 

  
"Oh, Sister, I thought that she was coming to you or had sought comfort at Nonnatus. Shelagh hasn't done any grieving at home, and now that you ask, I don't know that she's been sleeping well at night."

  
"Patrick, please keep an eye on her."

  
"Yes, Sister, we shouldn't address her right now, we don't know what she might do if she has unaddressed grief."

  
"Let's reevaluate after Clinic next week and create a plan."

That evening, Patrick found himself watching Shelagh closer than usual. Although she wouldn't admit to it, something was bothering her. Her eyes were darker, posture more enclosed, and demeanor more subdued. 


	4. Murky Depths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one notices the depth and darkness of Shelagh's depression until it's nearly too late. Can they save her from the depths?

In the days following Patrick’s first conversation with Sister Julienne, Patrick noticed just how differently Shelagh was acting. Nearly every night between Patrick’s first and second conversations with Sister Julienne, he could feel Shelagh come to bed late at night, only to toss and turn throughout the night, waking near dawn as though she were still a nun waking for Lauds. 

Beyond Shelagh’s inability to sleep came an even more disturbing pair of revelations. Patrick wondered how long he had been oblivious to Shelagh’s extreme anxiety, which manifested in her not wanting to leave the house and being ‘on edge’ no matter who was home with her. It startled Patrick to realize that the calm serenity that had come with her decision to leave the order and become a Turner. 

The second time that Patrick met with Sister Julienne, he realized that his fears were simply the tip of the iceberg. An iceberg that needed to melt soon; otherwise, it might entrap Shelagh until it was to late to reach her. 

“How is she, Doctor Turner?”

“Not well I’m afraid sister” he responded frankly

“Has she improved since last week?”

“No, Sister, if anything, she’s gotten worse. Shelagh struggles to eat, sleep, and leave the house. I fear that she hasn’t felt a sense of serenity, or at least calm since before Sister Evangelina and the Distaval. It doesn’t matter whether I’m home with her or the children, or whether it’s the children or me that she leaves the house with, she is so on edge that she can’t get any respite from her feelings."

“Oh, Doctor Turner, I had no idea."

“It’s alright, Sister, but I think it’s time to take action.”

“What do you think we should do, Doctor Turner?”

“I’d like to bring Shelagh here, to Nonnatus one evening, and give her the chance to be around people who openly embrace grieving and will give her a safe place to grieve. Not that our home is unsafe to grieve in, but she might not feel very safe expressing her grief around the children, and she has known your lot for over a decade. I would only stay around if Shelagh asked me to.”

“How about staying, but maybe in say the clinical room or in one of the unused bedrooms. That way, if Shelagh wanted you, or we needed you, then you aren’t that far away.”

“That should work, when would you like for us to come over Sister? I believe the sooner we address this, the better it will be for all of us.”

“Indeed, Doctor Turner, how about Sunday. Shelagh might be more willing to come if she is will us all at church before she comes to Nonnatus.”

“I agree, Sister, it will also give me time to make arrangements for Timothy and Angela to go with Granny Parker for the weekend.”


	5. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick starts the process of getting Shelagh the help she needs but doesn't know she needs and thus cannot seek on her own.

That evening after completing his rounds, Patrick stopped off at the surgery to make phone calls that he should have made earlier. Perhaps if he recognized what was happening with his Shelagh faster, he could have made these calls and maybe even prevented her from slipping as far as she had. Patrick quickly inhaled a cigarette and then made his way to the surgery phone.   
“Parker Residence, Mrs. Parker speaking.”  
“Elizabeth, It’s Patrick. Could you take the children after school tomorrow for a few days?”  
“Patrick, has something happened? You seem a bit on edge.” Patrick knew his Late Wife’s Mother meant well, but he felt violated and seen through.   
“Shelagh hasn’t handled Sister Evangelina’s death well, and…”   
As the line fell silent, Elizabeth Parker realized that her son-in-law was not seeking a childless home for pleasure, he was seeking it for the children’s sake and because he did not know what would happen as Shelagh faced the reality of death.  
“It’s alright, Patrick; I will come to collect Angela from you at the surgery and meet Timothy at the school gates tomorrow as he comes out. It will be okay, Patrick, telephone me when you’re ready for the children to come home. “  
“Thank you, Mrs. Parker. “  
“And Patrick?”  
“Yes, Mrs. Parker?”  
“Do phone if you need to talk or want to talk to the children. This struggle won’t be easy on you.”  
“I will, Thank You, Mrs. Parker. See you tomorrow morning.”  
Patrick needed another cigarette. He needed a moment before he called Ted Horringer about what was going on with Shelagh.   
Although he seemed calmer after a smoke break, the task at hand was still daunting even though it had to happen.   
“Horringer Residence, Mrs. Horringer speaking.”  
“Mrs. Horringer, this is Dr. Turner. May I speak to Dr. Horringer.”  
“Of course, Patrick, one moment. I’ll have to run and get Ted for you.”  
“Thank You, Mrs. Horringer. I appreciate it very much.”  
“Horringer speaking.”  
“ Ted, It’s Patrick. I need your opinion on how to proceed with treating one of my patients.”  
“Alright, Patrick. Who’s the patient? What are the symptoms?”  
“It’s Shelagh. She’s taken one of the Sisters’ death hard. In my professional opinion, I believe she’s got some of the classic symptoms of depression, but I’m a GP, not a Psychologist or Psychiatrist.”  
“I’m not one either, but I have a colleague at Harley Street that I can speak to in the morning. He is a Psychologist, and I have worked with him several times with patients under my care that could benefit from his care. Can I pass this on and have him call you in the morning.”  
“Yes, that would be great. Thank you, Ted, I appreciate it greatly.”  
With both vital phone calls made, it was time to head home. Patrick would have to speak with Timothy in the morning. It was much too late to bother the boy with information that would worry him, and Patrick knew that Timothy took anything to do with Shelagh harder than an average boy might because he loved her so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended to update sooner, but Sophmore year Uni work combined with a few too many working hours before this, my writing went by the wayside. This chapter will be essential 'part 2' of this chapter because I had so much external stuff that I wanted to get in.
> 
> Otherwise, hope you're all doing well. We're stuck in scary times, but we'll get through this together!


	6. Tough Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick's conversations with Timothy, about what is to come, and a Psychologist, about Shelagh, potentially having depression.

The night felt as though it went by too fast for Patrick Turner, who slept strangely well for a man who would have to explain to his son why he suddenly had to be with his Granny Parker for an unknown period.   
As he entered Timothy’s room that morning to wake him up, Patrick suddenly felt guilty for the news he needed to break to his son. Nevertheless, it needed to happen, Timothy needed to know what was happening, and Patrick would prefer to do it himself than explain everything to Timothy over the phone.  
“Timothy, time to get up for school.” He called in a quiet, speaking voice.  
“Daaad, it’s too early. I’ve got at least half an hour to sleep still.”  
“Normally, yes, son. You would still have another half an hour to sleep, but we need to talk before school, and this is the only chance we have.” Timothy protested.  
“Whatever it is you think I did, I didn’t do it.”  
“Timothy, this has not much to do with you. I’m sorry, son, but Granny Parker is going to meet you at the School Gates this afternoon. You’ll be staying with her for an unknown amount of time.”  
“Why, Dad? Why do I have to stay with Granny Parker? What about Angela? Is she going to stay here?”  
“Slow down, son. Angela is going to Granny Parker’s with you. I’m afraid your mum hasn’t handled Sister Evangelina’s death very well, and I need to take some time to help her through it. It isn’t something that you should be around; your mum is struggling more than you think.”  
“Will you call? Will you write letters? Can I call you? Can I write to you?”  
“Yes, son, we will call. We will write letters. I will always try to have one for you to read by the end of the week.”  
“Okay Dad”  
“Please hurry and get a dressed son. You need to pack what you’ll need for at least a week, probably more.”  
“Alright, Dad. See you at Breakfast.”  
“Yes, son. Timothy?”  
“Yes, Dad?”  
“Please don’t tell your mother what is happening. She doesn’t know yet, and I think it’s best if she finds out slowly after you and Angela have left.”  
“Yes, Dad.”  
It was then that Patrick took his leave to pack Angela’s bag and get ready for work. It was as if the world knew that Patrick was awake and working because it was at that very moment that the telephone began it’s signature shrill.  
“Turner speaking.”  
“Dr. Turner, it’s Dr. James Bartlett. I’m calling in regards to your conversation with Ted Horringer about your wife.”  
“Dr. Bartlett, I’ve been awaiting your call. What is your professional opinion?”  
“Dr. Turner, I believe you are correct. I believe your wife potentially is suffering from depression; however, as I’m sure you’re aware, I cannot diagnose her for certain without seeing her, either here at Harley Street or in your home. I’ll leave that to your preference.”  
“I understand, Dr. Bartlett, how about Shelagh and I visit you at Harley Street, not tomorrow but the next day?”  
“That sounds like a good plan, Dr. Turner. I’ll see you and Shelagh then.”  
Now, with the plan formed, it was time to put it into motion. It was time to show Shelagh grief, and that when one embraces the grieving process, it brings them to a better place overall. At least at this point, he had not only a plan but people who were helping him to make it come together. People who saw the importance of healthy grieving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created a Tumblr blog so that you all can interact with me more! Find it at https://rachelanne2018writes.tumblr.com/.
> 
> Sending love to you all! Stay safe!


	7. Cracking

Patrick had planned the phone call from Sister Julienne during breakfast on purpose; he wanted not only for Shelagh to answer the call and have a conversation with the closest person she had to a mother. He also wanted Shelagh to be unsuspecting to his plan for the day; this was his one chance to help her understand that she needed to address her grief to lessen the pain.   
"Patrick, could you get the phone, please?" Shelagh asked as the telephone's shrill ring cut the breakfast silence.  
"Turner Residence, Dr. Turner Speaking." He answered.  
"Dr.Turner, it's Sister Julienne. Is Shelagh available?"  
"Yes, one moment, please." He covered the telephone before calling out into the house, "Shelagh, phone for you."  
As Shelagh crossed to answer the telephone, she found herself unconsciously taking her husband's hand tightly. The last phone call she had taken was about Sister Evangelina's death, and in all honesty, Shelagh was not sure that she could handle another phone call like that.   
"Turner household, Mrs. Turner speaking." She answered in a wavering voice.  
"Shelagh, it's Sister Julienne. I was wondering if you and the family might like to join us for dinner, and you are more than welcome to join us for compline."   
Patrick could feel Shelagh's hand shaking in his, suddenly Patrick Turner wondered if he would receive the answer he planned. Suddenly, Patrick was questioning whether his plan was the best thing for his wife.  
"Yes, Sister, we will be there. At the usual time?"  
"Yes. We are looking forward to seeing you then, my dear Shelagh."  
With that, they hung up, but Shelagh lingered for a moment, still holding tightly to his hand. Seconds later, Shelagh's hand slipped out of Patrick's, and she returned to eating breakfast.  
"Shelagh, I've arranged with Granny Parker to take the children for a few days. I'm going to take Angela to the surgery to meet her, and Timothy will meet her at the school gates when he comes out."  
"Alright Patrick, will you pass me some Paracetamol? I have a nasty headache."  
"Here you are, Shelagh. You rest now; I'll come back for you after my rounds."  
"Patrick, I need to get the surgery ready to open while you're on your rounds."  
"Shelagh, Dearest, you can hardly keep your eyes, and you've been more tired than usual the last week or so. Please rest now; I don't want to see you get sick."  
"Alright, Patrick, I'll try and rest."  
With that, they exchanged goodbyes and their separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this might seem like a filler chapter, but I invite you to leave ideas on how you want me to handle the upcoming dinner and psychologist conversation.


	8. Weakened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelagh begins to feel a few more of the severe aspects of Depression.

It was that morning that Shelagh realized just how tired she was. Her daily routine was wearing her out. By dinner, she was exhausted and in need of a lie-down, which worked out because her stomach would hurt so severely that she could not eat anyway.   
Today was a strange day for Shelagh. She had woken up early, as she had for several weeks and had ended up filing the time, while the house was silent, in reflective prayer as she had during her ten years as a nun.   
Today was not the first day that she was not hungry for breakfast, and not the first that the slice of toast with jam left her stomach feeling gassy and generally upset. Seeing as Patrick wanted her to stay home and rest, and she wasn’t feeling up to it, her usual elevenses tea and biscuit would wait for another day.   
Today, she would rest as she had promised Patrick she would. Her eyes seemed to agree with Patrick that she needed to rest, and so she fell into a gentle slumber upon the gold settee that held so many memories.   
Sometime later, Shelagh awoke to the feeling of a blanket covering her and her glasses sliding off her face.

“Patrick” she whispered, her voice still sleepy  
“Shh, Shelagh, it’s alright. It’s only just gone one o’clock. Rest a bit longer, you need it.”  
“ But, you’ll be wanting lunch, and there is nothing.”  
“Shelagh, you need to rest. I stopped at the chippy and got us both fish and chips for dinner. I’ve put yours in the oven to keep warm…”  
It was then that he realized that she had fallen back into a restless sleep. It was then that Patrick had to leave for his afternoon rounds, surgery, and clinic. He would make sure to stop by and check-in before clinic.   
“Shelagh,” Patrick softly called as he entered the house that afternoon.   
“Patrick,” she back in a small, sleep laced voice.  
“Shelagh, I’m on my way to clinic, but I thought I would stop and check in on you. Shelagh? Are you alright?”  
“My stomach is a bit upset is all.”  
“Shelagh, did you eat lunch?”   
“No,” she whispered, “No, I slept through it.” She was crying by then.  
“No harm done,” he whispered into her hair. He held her for a moment and then went to the kitchen to retrieve her fish and chips.  
“Shelagh, don’t forget we’re having dinner at Nonnatus tonight.”  
She didn’t respond, but Patrick saw how nervous she looked suddenly and the way that she curled into him as if to seek safety from him.

“I’ll come and fetch you after clinic, that way you don’t have to walk alone.”  
“Alright, Patrick,” came her soft response.  
On his way to clinic that afternoon, Patrick reflected on his interactions with Shelagh that day. Her nervousness whenever he mentioned Nonnatus concerned him, and the venture of trying to get her to eat her fish and chip lunch hadn’t been entirely successful, she had only managed to eat a few of the chips, and a bite or two of the fish.   
“Doctor Turner, is Shelagh with you?” called Sister Winnifred as he arrived at clinic that afternoon.  
“I’m afraid not, Sister. She’s had a rough day today.”  
“Oh…”  
“I’ll have Nurse Gilbert man the intake table until Sister Julienne arrives from Nonnatus,” replied Nurse Crane.  
“Thank you, Nurse Crane.” He replied.  
Later that afternoon, as clinic was wrapping up, Dr. Turner found himself in the kitchen having a cup of tea as Sister Julienne approached him.  
“Doctor Turner, I had Sister Winnifred inform me that Shelagh wouldn’t be here, is she alright?” Sister Julienne asked in a friendly tone.  
“Without going into detail, Sister, Shelagh’s had a rough day. We are still planning on coming to Nonnatus for dinner.”  
“What happened, Patrick?” Hearing his first name from his wife’s former superior both unnerved him and relaxed him at the same time.   
In a whisper, to protect Shelagh, he explained to Sister Julienne how Shelagh had acted during their morning phone call, how little of a fight she had put up when he suggested she stay home and rest. How he had found her asleep both times he ventured home to check on her, how little of a late lunch/early tea she was able to stomach, her headache, and how she curled into him and seemed nervous when he reminded her of dinner that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Research Sources:  
> https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2888013/  
> https://www.verywellmind.com/who-discovered-depression-1066770
> 
> I promise- the Nonnatus Visit Scene you've been waiting for is coming- there's just so much build-up I have to do and I couldn't in my right mind make this any longer!


	9. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and Shelagh visit Nonnatus House. Will Shelagh be able to cope, or will she fall into tears?

Suddenly, Patrick felt an urge to go home and check on Shelagh. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he was going to follow this unusual urge and head home a bit early.  
“Sister, I hate to cut our conversation short, but I should get home. I feel as though I must check on her.”  
”Go, Dr. Turner. We’ll see you both later tonight unless we hear otherwise.”  
“Thank you, Sister. Shelagh and I will see you later.”

When Patrick arrived home, he expected to find the worst. Instead, he found Shelagh sound asleep on the couch. Patrick felt terrible about what he was about to do, but he knew that if he didn’t wake her now, they would never make it to Nonnatus on time for dinner.   
“Shelagh,” he softly called as he ran a hand through her hair. “Shelagh.”  
“Patrick” she answered groggily, “what time is it?”  
“It’s late afternoon. Do you want some tea before we get ready for dinner?”  
“No, Patrick, I would like some more Paracetamol, my head is splitting.”

After kissing her forehead gently, Patrick retrieved a paracetamol tablet from his bag and a glass of water from the kitchen. With the Paracetamol taken, he and Shelagh went upstairs to get ready for dinner.  
“Patrick, I’m not sure what to wear.”  
“What would you like to wear? I’m sure one of your nice house dresses would be just fine. Wear something you feel comfortable wearing. This isn’t a fancy dinner.”  
Suddenly, Shelagh was standing in front of Patrick sobbing, with tears running down her face.  
“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Patrick. I’ve been to Nonnatus hundreds of times, and I used to live there.”  
“Shelagh, it’s alright. You haven’t been feeling well today, and it seems like you’re a bit overwhelmed.”  
Patrick thought he heard a mumbled ‘Yes’ as he pulled her into a hug. After a few minutes, he sat Shelagh down on the bed with his handkerchief and went to the closet.  
“Here Shelagh, how about this dress?”  
The dress that he handed her was an old favorite. It was a housedress she wore on long errand days whose shade of blue was like the habit she had worn for ten years as a nun. It was also made of soft cotton, that Patrick knew made her feel safe. He then went into the bathroom to clean up before they went to Nonnatus.  
Shelagh was nervous about leaving the house, yet she couldn’t fully understand why. The entire drive to Nonnatus, Shelagh wanted to cry. Patrick saw Shelagh’s nerves and took her hand in his as the pulled up to Nonnatus, kissing the place where the summer fete scar had been so many years ago.  
“My dear Shelagh!” Sister Julienne greeted her as she opened the door. “How wonderful to see you.”  
“Hello, Sister Julienne,” she answered quietly, looking at the floor.   
It wasn’t until they walked into the dining room that Shelagh began to break down. Patrick felt her hand slip into his and start shaking.   
“Shelagh, are you okay? Do you need a moment?” he whispered in her ear  
“I’m okay. I don’t know.”  
“It will be okay.”  
Shelagh was so nervous and on edge that she found it hard to eat, even though Mrs. B’s Shepherd Pie was delicious as usual. Suddenly, in the middle of the meal, Patrick felt Shelagh’s hand squeeze his. When he looked over, Patrick noticed tears quietly rolling down Shelagh’s face.  
“Mrs. Turner, are you alright?” Sister Winnifred asked suddenly.  
“Shelagh?” Patrick asked.  
“Dr. Turner, let’s walk her to the sitting room. It appears Mrs. Turner needs a break.”  
The moment that Sister Julienne and Patrick got Shelagh into the sitting-room, she began crying inconsolably. The only thing that seemed to work was having Patrick hold Shelagh as Sister Julienne rubbed her back. The other Nonnatuns kept their distance because they recognized that there was something bigger going on.   
Shelagh wore herself out a few hours later, and Sister Julienne graciously offered to allow them to stay the night, but ultimately Patrick declined.

“I’m sorry, Sister, I wish we could, but I think it would be best if I took Shelagh home tonight. We have an appointment with Dr. Bartlett tomorrow morning at Harley Street. I’m hoping this will put us closer to a diagnosis.”  
“Dr. Turner, are you suggesting there is more to Shelagh’s distress?”  
“Yes, Sister, I believe she’s been showing symptoms of depression for a bit now, and they’ve become more prominent the longer they go untreated.”  
“Do you… Do you think its depression?”  
“I do, as does Dr. Bartlett, but he cannot diagnose her without seeing her in person. Will you drop by and check on her tomorrow during afternoon rounds?”  
“Dr. Turner. Do you have a locum for tomorrow, or are you planning on working after her appointment?”  
“I have a locum to cover, and I thought I’d spend the entire day with her. I doubt she’d want to be alone if she could comprehend what was happening.”  
“I suppose you’re right, Dr. Turner. May you both rest peacefully tonight.”   
“Thank you, Sister Julienne. I’ll phone you after the appointment tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving y'all TWO long chapters today because A) I didn't get one up yesterday (Kansas Days) and B) I wanted to stay on track for roughly a chapter a day because y'all I need my Poplar friends (and my AO3/Fanfic/Tumblr friends!).
> 
> I love you all! I hope you're well! Stay safe, and if you'd like to contribute prompt ideas, feel free!


	10. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelagh is lost in her feelings and is unable to face much without Patrick by her side. Will Shelagh be found? Can she overcome?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for another 'fluff build-up chapter' but it needed to happen AND this is over 1,000 words- closer to 1100.. so I promise. I really do love my readers. :) All the more to distract you from the scariness of real life, my friends. (Disney Witch much there Rachel?)

That night, as Patrick carried Shelagh to bed, he noticed just how light she was. Shelagh had always been of small stature, even as a nun, but there wasn’t a way that she could be of healthy weight. Her inability to eat must have gone on longer than he was willing to admit.  
Alas, he would have to wait until the morning to get Shelagh the help she desperately needed. There was only one thing that Patrick could do that night, pray. As a man of little faith, he didn’t want to admit that it was the only thing left that might help, but he prayed anyway. All though he had prayed several times in recent years, Patrick Turner meant these prayers with all his heart.  
After a restless night of sleep, Patrick Turner found himself up early mechanically getting ready for the day. He ended up having extra time before he needed to wake Shelagh for their appointment and decided that he would enjoy a cup of tea in the silence and let his mind wander before their essential day.  
It was at that moment that Patrick Turner began to wonder if he could have saved Shelagh before it got to this point. What if he had noticed the signs earlier? What if he called Ted sooner? What if he had encouraged her to grieve earlier? What if he had reached out to Sister Julienne soon? He calmed with the knowledge that the surgery had been busy before, during, and after Sister Evangelina’s funeral, and the Distaval letter had only added to the workload.  
Sighing, Patrick too his empty teacup to the kitchen and immersed himself in the forgotten washing up. Somehow, he managed to fill the majority of his remaining time with the washing up and pulled himself from his trance just in time to realize that he needed to wake Shelagh so that she could get ready for their appointment that morning.  
“Shelagh,” Patrick called in a gentle voice as he ran his fingers through her hair, “Shelagh.”  
“Patrick” came Shelagh’s sleep laced voice a few moments later.  
“That’s it. That’s my girl.” He replied before pressing a soft kiss into her forehead, “Good Morning, Shelagh.”  
“Patrick, what time is it?”  
“It’s just gone seven. How are you feeling? You had a rough night last night I’m afraid.”

The only response Shelagh gave was to shift into Patrick. Patrick wondered if she knew what was about to happen. It was now that he would have to explain to Shelagh and try to get her to get ready on her own, which he highly doubted she would be capable of after her difficulties the night before.

“Shelagh, I need to tell you something.”  
“What is it, Patrick” Shelagh whispered back.  
“I need you to get ready. I made an appointment for you to see a friend of Ted’s at Harley Street.”  
“Oh,” she whispered.  
“Dr. Bartlett is a psychologist who might be able to help you with some of what you have been dealing with in the past few weeks, especially with your emotions.”  
When Patrick received no response, he wondered if Shelagh had fallen asleep, but when he turned her face towards his and noticed the tears running down it, he knew that she indeed needed help.  
“Shelagh, I’m doing this because it is the best I can do for you. You’ve lost so much weight, barely eaten, and you’ve been so nervous and on edge. It’s not good for you to keep going like this. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”  
“I’ll go.” He heard her whisper after a while. “Can I have some Paracetamol, and have you pick out my dress again? I don’t know what to wear anymore.”  
“Yes, Shelagh, I can do both of those things. Will you take a bath whilst I pick out your dress?”  
A whispered “yes” was the only response he received before he went to retrieve her requested Paracetamol.  
Once she had taken the Paracetamol and drunk the entire glass of water, Patrick brought her, Shelagh went to take a bath. Patrick then had to accomplish the task of picking out Shelagh’s dress. Ultimately Patrick chose another soft cotton dress in a shade of yellow that reminded him of sunshine and daffodils. With a dress selected, Patrick took the chosen dress and folded it before putting it in front of the lavatory door on his way down to make some fresh tea.  
Around eight o’clock, Shelagh came into the sitting room and curled into her husband on the settee. With shaking hands, she took the cup of tea offered to her by Patrick and tried to drink it, but eventually gave in and put the cup down.  
“Shelagh, we need to get headed to our appointment at Harley Street,” Patrick told her after a while.  
“Alright, Patrick,” her soft reply came.  
The ride to Harley Street was relatively uneventful and was silent apart from the sound of their breathing. Patrick knew that Shelagh was nervous, but he hoped that, no matter what the outcome was, they would have answers and a way to help Shelagh seem more like her old self. If he was honest, Patrick missed the ‘old Shelagh’ who was able to choose her clothing, had tea ready when he needed it most, and who did not seem as fragile as the Shelagh he had then.  
As they pulled into Harley Street, Patrick decided that he wanted Shelagh to know that no matter what, he would be by her side. This appointment was nothing like what they had faced last time at Harley Street.  
“Shelagh, no matter what happens, we’ve got each other, we’ve got Timothy and Angela.”  
“I know, Patrick,” Shelagh answered with tears pricking at her eyes.  
“Ted highly recommends Dr. Bartlett, and I won’t even have to leave the room if you don’t want to be alone.”  
“Patrick” she replied even softer, “I’m never alone, I’m married to you… Patrick?”  
“Yes, Shelagh?”  
“Please don’t leave the room. I don’t want to be without you, I’m… I’m Scared, Patrick.”  
“Oh, Shelagh, I promise I won’t leave. It’s okay to be scared, Shelagh; you’re dealing with more than just physical symptoms.”  
“Please don’t leave Patrick. I need you by my side.”  
“No matter what, we will face it head-on together, as Shelagh and Patrick. I promise.”  
It was time to face this appointment head-on. It was time to enter Harley Street for the first time since Shelagh’s operation two years prior.


	11. Turning Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelagh and Patrick visit Dr. Bartlett at Harley Street on Dr. Horringer's recommendation. What will they decide is best for Shelagh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains content relevant to MENTAL ILLNESS, specifically TREATMENT OF THOSE ILLNESSES. READER DISCRETION ADVISED!

"Good Morning," Patrick greeted the receptionist for both of them, "Turner to see Dr. Bartlett."  
"Ah yes, Dr. Bartlett," the middle-aged receptionist replied, "take a left, and down the corridor, it'll be the third door on the right."  
"Thank you, Ma'am."  
Patrick had felt Shelagh squeeze his hand at that moment. As they walked down the hall, he whispered words of reassurance to her repeatedly. He missed Shelagh's voice, her beautiful voice. A few minutes later, they were standing in Infront of Dr. Bartlett's door. It was time. Time for Shelagh to be supported and return to being something remotely close to her original self, even if she was never the same again, she was his Shelagh and Patrick would be there for her no matter what.  
"Good Morning, how can I help you?" The receptionist greeted them warmly.  
"Turner to see Dr. Bartlett at 9:30, I'm afraid we're a bit earlier than I expected to be," Patrick replied.  
"Ah yes, Dr. and Mrs. Turner. It's a good thing you're a bit early, Dr. just needs a few forms filled out to help him with records. Do you have any questions for me before I give you the forms?"  
"Yes, actually, am I allowed to stay with my wife during her appointment?"  
"Yes, be mindful that Dr. Bartlett may ask you to step out for a moment or two. Otherwise, you can stay with Mrs. Turner as long as she desires." The receptionist answered as she handed Patrick the forms.  
"Right, thank you."  
"You're welcome, Dr. Turner. When you finish, bring the forms back to me and I'll get them taken care of in our system. Dr. will be with you shortly."  
As Patrick and Shelagh sat down, the receptionist couldn't help but observe how much they meant to each other. She watched Patrick Turner set the forms on an empty chair, before helping his wife settle into another one, leaving a chair for himself between the forms and his wife. After working with Dr. Bartlett and his colleagues for well over four years, she thought she had seen every type of supportive and unsupportive husband there was- but this was new to her. The Turners, she thought, must have a unique relationship beyond what was available in the medical records. It touched her in such a way that she hoped Dr. Bartlett could help Mrs. Turner get back to normal, even if it was not anything like she had before.

"Thank you, Dr. Turner. Dr. Bartlett should be along shortly." The receptionist replied as Patrick handed her the filled-out forms. 

A few minutes later, the moment was upon them.  
"Turner" a nurse called   
"Shelagh, it's time to see the doctor," Patrick whispered to his wife.  
"Hello! I'm Nurse Kyrie. Can I ask which of you Dr. Bartlett is to see today?"  
Upon feeling Shelagh's hand start shaking, Patrick decided that he would answer the nurse's questions.  
"My wife, Shelagh, here is."  
"It's alright, darling. Let's get you up onto the scale now." nurse's bubbly voice quieted into a soft reassurance.  
"Okay," Shelagh whispered after a few moments.  
Once the nurse had taken Shelagh's blood pressure, heart rate, weight, and height, she led them into one of the smaller rooms to wait for the doctor. Afterward, she went to find the doctor and let him know the Turners were present for their appointments.  
"Dr. Bartlett, the Turners are in Room 2 when you're ready." The nurse told the doctor.  
"Thank you, Nurse Kyrie. Nurse is something amiss?" Dr. Bartlett replied.  
"No, Doctor, I just think that this case is one of the most severe cases that has been seen by this practice in a long time."  
"Kayla, I can't lie. You've been here since the beginning, and I've just reviewed the information Dr. Horringer and her husband, Dr. Turner, provided. This case is among the most severe we've ever dealt seen. I'm not entirely sure if we will be able to treat her here, but I'd rather not refer to a facility if I don't have to."  
"Doctor, I think you might not want to keep them waiting for too long."  
"Alright, Nurse Kyrie, I'll see them first here in a moment."  
"Thank you, Doctor."

At the same time, Nurse Kyrie was urging Dr. Bartlett to see them first; the Turners were trying to settle into the room they were assigned. Patrick could tell that Shelagh was fighting the urge to fall asleep, and that she was putting an increasing amount of her weight onto him.  
"Shelagh, Dearest?" Patrick asked.  
"Yes, Patrick?" Shelagh whispered.  
"No matter what happens, I love you."  
"I love you, Patrick." She whispered back.  
"Shelagh, can we talk when we get home? Please?"  
"Patrick," she whispered after a few minutes, "I want to, but I'm tired."  
"It's alright. I'll ask again later." He replied, pressing a soft kiss into her forehead afterward.  
It was then that they heard a knock on the door; it was time to get answers for Shelagh. Answers that she deserved and might allow her to rejoin her friends at Nonnatus from time to time.

"Good Morning, Dr. and Mrs. Turner. I'm Dr. Bartlett."  
"Dr. Bartlett" Patrick replied quickly, extending his hand to shake Dr. Bartlett's  
"Hello," Shelagh managed to whisper.  
"I've managed to review your notes, Dr. Turner, and those from Dr. Grant and Dr. Horringer. If it's alright with you, Mrs. Turner, I'd like to ask you a few questions to help me make a more informed diagnosis."  
Shelagh glanced between Patrick and Dr. Bartlett, nervous that Dr. Bartlett would make Patrick leave.  
"It's alright, Mrs. Turner, and your husband can stay in the room if you'd like."  
Shelagh relaxed then and was able to answer the doctor with a clear, whispered answer.  
"Yes. I'll answer the questions."  
"Alright, then. Have you left your house in the last month?"  
"Except for last night, no."  
"Do you have any friends outside of the home?"  
"Yes."  
The last question was a question that Dr. Bartlett felt terrible about asking, but he knew it was necessary if he were to make an effort to treat her in his clinic.  
"Mrs. Turner, have you lost a friend, family member, or someone you were otherwise close to in the past month or so?"  
It was then that Dr. Bartlett watched Shelagh Turner break down into the arms of her husband. He didn't need Mrs. Turner to answer verbally. He knew the answer from her actions.  
"I'm going to step out and speak to a colleague. I'll give you both a moment alone."  
"Thank you, Dr. Bartlett," Patrick responded for them both.  
"Doctor Bartlett, how did it go with the Turners?" his colleague Dr. Joshua Allen asked as Dr. Bartlett poured himself a cup of tea.  
"Allen, I'm honestly not sure that I can treat her without a referral to an institution like Northfield. But, I'm afraid it would do her more harm than good to be away from Poplar and her family for the extended period that treatment would provide relief from her symptoms."  
"I wouldn't mind seeing them once a week. I could try that new technique of Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy I spent a full summer learning in that immersion course last summer."  
"Do you think she'd benefit from medication? She's already had one of the more easily prescribed medications during her time in the Sanatorium for Tuberculosis."  
"It's worth a shot, and this combination might help her break free sooner than trying one or the other alone for a given period."  
"How do I approach this with them? She's so broken, Allen, it's nothing like I've ever seen before."  
"Give me a minute to finish this cup of tea, and I'll join you in explaining it to them."  
"Thank you, Dr. Allen."  
"You're welcome, Dr. Bartlett. Someday you'll realize that you can overcome your past too."

With that, they returned to the room the Turners were in and knocked genteelly before entering. The scene that the doctors found when the returned was like none they had ever seen before. They saw Patrick Turner sitting on the floor, holding and consoling his wife while rocking back and forth to try and soothe her in any way he could. It was perhaps the most loving display of caring affection they had ever seen in their respective professional careers. 

"Dr. Turner, this is Dr. Joshua Allen," Dr. Bartlett commented in soft, calm tones.  
"Please, call me Allen. I favor it over Dr.Allen." Joshua Allen replied similarly.  
"Dr. Turner, we believe your wife might benefit from a relatively new form of treatment for psychological issues, known as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. We'd like to try it in combination with a medication we believe your wife may have taken back in her time at Saint Anne's called Isoniazid. Allen here has agreed to see your wife if it is something you are willing to try."  
"Please, call me Patrick. Will this keep her from going into one of those institutions like The Linchmere or Northfield?"  
"Ideally, yes, it might take a bit to get the regiment right, and it doesn't have to be permanent." Dr. Allen replied.  
"What do you think, Shelagh? Are you willing to try this treatment?"  
"Yes," they heard whispered a few moments later.  
"I'll write you a script, and you'll need to come here to the clinic at Harley Street as frequently as Allen wants to see you." Dr. Bartlett concluded.  
"I'd like to give the medication time to kick in and you time to spend with family if you are able. I'd like to start seeing your wife once a week after the first of the year, Patrick." Dr. Allen decided.  
"What if an emergency comes up between now and then or between sessions?" Patrick asked, hoping that nothing would happen, but he couldn't be sure.  
"I'll give you the numbers you would need to get ahold of the clinic directly, and also myself and Dr. Bartlett's numbers should you need us outside of clinic hours. "Dr. Allen replied.

With this decision, the doctors left a sleeping Shelagh in Patrick's arms on the floor and went to attend to other patients. Once the doctors left Patrick carried Shelagh to the car and drove her home. He hoped this treatment would work, otherwise, she may have to leave her beloved Poplar. Patrick knew that he wanted to do anything he could to prevent this from happening. Shelagh was his world, and he couldn't afford to lose her again. Not, after all, they had been through together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I accidentally Americanized this a bit, I've never actually been to a Doctor in the UK- especially during the '60s.


	12. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick comes to some crucial realizations about what the most important thing is in his life.

As Patrick carried Shelagh into the house, he wondered how long after her treatment started, it would for her to feel better. At that moment, he knew there was nothing left he could do except being available to and loving her.  
As he gently laid her on their beloved settee, he noticed how much more relaxed she looked. Gone were most of the lines that had creased her face for the past several weeks. Gently, he kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair before covering her with a knitted blanket, that was likely a gift from someone at Nonnatus house. With Shelagh settled, he crept to the telephone. Patrick needed to make two phone calls- one to Timothy to explain what he could, and another to his locum.  
Although he didn't want to make this call, Patrick knew that this was his only chance to make it, and the call would be the only way that he could give Shelagh the support that she needed. Patrick decided to call the locum first at least, he thought, he could get the hardest of the two calls out of the way first and spend a bit longer talking to his children and Granny Parker. After four rings, Mrs. Higgins answered the telephone and put him through to the locum.  
"Kennilworth Row Surgery, Doctor, speaking, how may I assist you?"  
"John, it's me, Turner. I'm afraid I need you to cover for me over an extended period. Are you able to do so?"  
"Patrick, is everything alright? This call out of the blue isn't like you? Please talk to me."  
"John, I'm not sure how much Shelagh would want me saying, but the doctors she saw, they want her to try a new combination therapy. They say a combination of what they call cognitive-behavioral therapy and drug therapy might help keep her from having to go into a place like the Linchmere or out to Northfield. If possible, I'd like to be here with her until we know that it is working, and she can be independent."  
"Patrick, Say no more. I'm more than happy to stay on, even part-time when necessary. Patrick, your wife, needs you, and I'd be a foolish man to take you away from her at a time like this."  
"Thank you, John."  
"Patrick."  
"Yes, John."  
"Does she need to be put on the district rounds once her medication arrives?"  
"John, I think I know the only few people she'll see right now. Those people are me, Sister Julienne, and our children. I think it would be best if we don't introduce anyone that might upset her into that mix."  
"I'll let you make arrangements then, but know that I'll see her or put her on the district rounds in a heartbeat if you need me too."  
"Thank you, John."  
"You're welcome, Patrick, you get back to your wife now."  
"Goodbye, John. I'll let you know when I plan to return to work."  
"Right then, Goodbye, Patrick."  
Suddenly, Patrick decided that after his conversation with his locum John, he could not do anything but find a place to watch over his wife to protect her. Patrick wanted to spend his time sitting with Shelagh and holding her hand, rather than on the phone in the hall where he could barely see Shelagh on the settee.


	13. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick helps Shelagh through another rough patch.

As Patrick Turner reentered the sitting room, he decided that rather than sitting next to Shelagh and potentially invading her space, he would settle himself in his chair with the latest few copies of the Lancet and a cup of tea until Shelagh woke up. Patrick decided that this would keep him close enough to keep an eye on her, but if Shelagh wanted space as or after she woke, it was available to her. Although Patrick was hoping that Shelagh would talk to him, he didn’t want to push her into something that she wasn’t ready to do.  
Several hours after they arrived home, Patrick had gone through two cups of tea and was in the kitchen to make another when he heard Shelagh waking up. Upon entering the sitting room, Patrick found that not only was Shelagh awake, but she was upset and in tears. It was at that moment that Patrick decided he needed to intervene.  
“It’s alright, Shelagh; I’m here beautiful girl.” He called to her softly as he came to her.  
“Patrick. Patrick.” She cried out; her voice flooded with tears.  
“Let it out; it’s alright. I’m here, and I won’t leave unless you want me too.”  
Patrick didn’t need a response; he could feel how tightly Shelagh was clinging to him. It took an hour of Patrick whispering encouragement into Shelagh’s ear and running his fingers through her hair to calm her down.  
“Would you like a cup of tea, dear?”  
“Yes,” she whispered weakly.  
“How about while I make it, you splash a bit of water onto your face and put your shoes away.”  
“Okay”  
As Shelagh entered the lavatory, she took a long look at herself in the mirror. Dark purple bags hung under her bloodshot eyes, and beside red lines that ran down her face from the tears that had plagued her last few days. The water refreshed her face, and although it did not remove the red eyes and purple bags, it removed the red tear streaks and lifted a small amount of the fog that had settled upon her brain. Upon entering the bedroom that she and Patrick shared, Shelagh began to wonder why Patrick was treating her so gently.   
“How can he love me when I’m so broken” she wondered in her head, “the doctors told us I am a broken woman. I must get better. I must go back to normal.”.  
As Shelagh put her shoes into the closet, her hand brushed a rogue photograph laying as though it had fallen from the shelf above her clothes. Shelagh picked it up and brought it back to the sitting room. As she settled on the settee again, Shelagh realized that the photo wasn’t one of a family member. The picture was one of the few that existed from her time in the order. The photo, in black and white, showed Sister Monica Joan, Sister Julienne, Sister Evangelina, and herself with smiles in a forgotten location.  
“No. No.” she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.  
“Shelagh. Shelagh, please, talk to me. What’s wrong? Please?” Patrick called from somewhere in the haze around her.   
The only thing that Shelagh could manage to do was attempt to put the photo in his hand as the tears broke free and rolled down her face.  
“Oh, Shelagh,” Patrick commented as he realized what was happening.   
Patrick knew at that moment the one person that could help calm Shelagh down  
“Shelagh, I’ll be right back. I’m just going to make a phone call.” Patrick tried to soothe. He knew that it probably wouldn’t help, but Patrick had confirmed that Shelagh hadn’t yet adequately grieved Sister Evangelina’s death.  
“Nonnatus House, Sister Julienne speaking.”


	14. Illuminating the Darkness

“Sister, It’s Patrick. Shelagh needs you.”  
“I’m getting on my bicycle right now. I will see you in 10 minutes.”  
“Thank you, Sister. Please let yourself in when you get here.”  
As Patrick put down the phone, he heard Shelagh’s silent tears turn into sobs. It was at that moment he went running to his wife and pulled her into his arms.  
“It’s alright, Shelagh.” Patrick gently encouraged. “I’m here for you, Shelagh. No matter what happens, I am here for you.”  
Fifteen minutes later, Sister Julienne found Shelagh still in Patrick’s arms, softly sobbing and clinging to him as though he might leave.  
“Shelagh,” Patrick spoke gently, “Sister Julienne is here. Will you talk to her? I can leave if you need space to talk with only her. Please, Shelagh?”  
After a moment, he felt Shelagh’s head turn away from his shoulder. Her response was soft, but important, nonetheless.   
“Patrick, please don’t leave. I’m scared without you.”  
“Do you want me to leave the room? I don’t have to leave the flat.”  
“Okay,” she answered shakily, as though she was about to cry again.  
“I promise Shelagh, I won’t leave the flat, and I’ll come back in if you’d like.”  
“Okay.” She whispered.  
“I’ll leave you to talk to Sister Julienne now.” Patrick ended, gently placing a kiss on the top of her head.  
“I can’t thank you enough for coming, Sister. I hope she’ll talk to you.”   
“Thank you, Dr. Turner. I’ll let you know if you’re needed.”  
Suddenly, Patrick stopped. “Oh, Sister. You might want this; she pressed it into my hand when the tears started. I think it might be the cause.” He commented as he pressed the photo into her hand.  
The moment that Sister Julienne sat down, Shelagh flung her arms around her and started to sob again. “She needed me,” she thought, “but I’m here now.”  
“Oh, Sister, my heart is shattered.” Shelagh sobbed into Sister Julienne’s habit.  
“My dear Shelagh, you have said what we all feel.” She paused, sensing that if she continued, Shelagh might fall apart further.”  
‘Oh, Sister.” She paused. “I expect to see her when I’m at Nonnatus or out running errands, Oh Sister.” Shelagh had composed herself to whisper the first part, but by the second, she had begun to sob again.  
“Shelagh, have you paused to grieve Sister Evangelina?”  
“N-no, I h-have an f-family t-to c-care f-for.” Shelagh croaked between sobs.  
“I have found that when we take a moment to care for ourselves, although hard means that we can care for others more effectively.”  
It wasn’t until Shelagh looked Sister Julienne in the eyes that Sister Julienne realized there was more to her fear of grieving, and more than pure grief. Shelagh didn’t break down because she had found a simple photo unexpectedly. Something was engrained within Shelagh that it was unhealthy and selfish to grieve, and before Sister Julienne could convince her otherwise, she would need to calm Shelagh down.   
“O Nata Lux de Lumine Jesu redemptor saeculi*” she began to sing.  
It wasn’t a song sung often by the Sisters of Saint Raymond Nonnatus, and she wasn’t sure Shelagh had learned it during her time in the convent, but Sister Julienne hoped it might calm her enough to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *= Latin, Oh Light Born of Light, Jesus redeemer of the world. Morton Lauridsen has a well-known version of this song for SATB choir. A translation by Laurence Housman was published in The English Hymnal in 1906 as "O Light of light, by love inclined." 
> 
> We're building into some improvised background. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	15. Haunted by the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelagh is forced to acknowledge that her past has kept her from grieving, causing unbearable pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Maria (@MariaLujan) helped create this chapter with her fabulous ideas.
> 
> Thank you, Maria, for your incredible support throughout this process.

As Sister Julienne continued to sing, she felt Shelagh slowly relax and heard her sobs gradually quiet. Sister Julienne sighed as she remembered the times, early in Shelagh’s novitiate, when Shelagh would wake fearing that she would be at home with her father. It was time for Sister Julienne to ask a question; that only she could ask Shelagh.  
“Shelagh, did your father allow you to grieve?” Sister Julienne asked quietly.  
“N-No. H-he told me that since my mother was gone, I needed to keep the house and learn to be a good wife.”  
“Did he let you have photos of her, or keep her memory alive?”  
“I don’t know what happened to most of the photos. I managed to hide the handful of photos that survived my time at Nonnatus House, but…”   
Before Shelagh could finish her sentence, she succumbed to the exhaustion that washed over her. She felt a bit lighter knowing that when Sister Julienne was around, all would be well. As the holds of sleep settled in, Shelagh snuggled deeper into Sister Julienne’s habit. It smelled and felt like the home she held so dearly.   
With Shelagh in her arms, there was nothing Sister Julienne could do except pray, for Shelagh, for Doctor Turner and the Children, and pray her offices. A while later, she was brought back to the present by the sounds of tea brewing. Although Sister Julienne didn’t want to take Shelagh out of her arms, she was surprised that her eyes were still open. As Sister Julienne lay Shelagh down on the settee, and gently covered Shelagh with her coat, and without thinking, kissed Shelagh’s hand.   
“How is she, Sister?” Patrick asked as Sister Julienne came into the Kitchen.  
“Oh, I’d suppose she’s coming to terms a bit better. I’d suspect that she’s a bit traumatized from her past, back in Inverurie.”  
“Sister, she mentioned that her father didn’t care much for her after her mother’s death.”  
“Doctor Turner, there is much that she must tell you in her own time. When she arrived as a novice, Shelagh frequently had nightmares. Over time they reduced in frequency and severity, but if stressed or overtired would return. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started again.”  
“Shelagh mentioned that her father didn’t pay any special attention to her after the death of her mother, and it was her place to keep the house.”  
“I don’t know for certain, but I would suspect there is more that Shelagh isn’t comfortable talking about.”  
“I had no Idea, Sister,” Patrick replied as he turned to pour a cup of tea. “Would you like a cup of tea, Sister?”  
“Please”  
They stood in comfortable silence for several minutes, before Patrick realized that he should call the children and Granny Parker.  
“Sister, I hate to leave, but I think I should call the children and Granny Parker. Please, enjoy your tea, stay for a while.”  
“Alright, Doctor Turner, I think I’ll sit with Shelagh for a while and drink my tea.”  
“Thank you, Sister, you mean the world to her. “  
As Patrick Turner entered the hall and began to dial the familiar number into the phone, he wished that the next time he made a phone call to that number, it would be to tell Timothy that he and Angela were coming home.


	16. In Soft Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure Fluff. I'm (not) sorry.

“Hello, Parker residence Elizabeth speaking.”   
“Mrs. Parker, it’s Patrick. Is Timothy still awake?”  
“Hello Patrick, it’s good to hear from you. I don’t know, but I’ll go and find out.”  
“Thank you, Mrs. Parker.”  
It was several tense moments between the time that the phone went silent, and when Elizabeth Parker picked it up again.  
“I’m sorry, Patrick; it looks like Timothy lost a fight with his Maths. Patrick, is everything alright? I can have Timothy call you in the morning, but I’m concerned about you.”  
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. It’s been rough, Shelagh saw a Psychologist this morning, and we have a plan now, but I don’t know when Timothy and Angela will be able to come home. I hope that soon we can come and visit, but I don’t know when.”  
“What did the Psychologist say, Patrick?”  
“The Psychologist wants to try a combination of what he calls cognitive behavioral therapy and drug therapy. Shelagh is supposed to start her medication early next week, but the other part can’t begin until after the first of the year. I-I’m scared, Elizabeth I don’t want her to get worse.”  
“Patrick, you must take care of yourself. I’ll have Timothy call you in the morning, but please get some rest tonight. If you want to bring Shelagh to visit Timothy and Angela, you are more than welcome to do so.”   
“Thank you, Elizabeth. I should get back to Shelagh now.”  
“You’re welcome, Patrick. Good Night.”  
As he hung the phone up, Patrick decided that if Timothy had fallen asleep already, it was finally time that he got himself and Shelagh to bed. At the same time, as he entered the sitting room and looked at Shelagh asleep on the settee beneath Sister Julienne’s coat, but he should let her get back to Nonnatus. Then again, Sister Julienne was already nealing beside her chair, saying her offices for compline.  
“I just want Shelagh to feel more like herself again.” He thought. “I hope this combination works; I don’t know if Shelagh could take any other treatments; she’s so weak. I want her to feel better.”  
Patrick must have been standing in the doorway, watching for a long time because the next thing he knew, Sister Julienne was standing in front of him.

“Doctor Turner, is everything alright?” Sister Julienne whispered. When he didn’t respond, she decided to try again.  
“Doctor Turner?” She whispered a bit louder.  
“Sorry, Sister, I was absorbed in my thoughts. How is she? Has she woken yet?”  
“No need to apologize, she is much the same, and she has not woken.”  
“I’d offer to drive you home, but I promised that I wouldn’t leave her alone.”  
“Go and rest Doctor Turner; I will stay with Shelagh and watch over her tonight.”  
“Are you sure, sister? It is quite late, and you should get some rest too.”  
“ I am sure I have kept vigil over my patients many times in the past. I shall do it for my dear Shelagh now.”   
“I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me, and I’ll fetch a clean nightdress for Shelagh, so if she wakes, she has something to wear.”  
“She’ll appreciate the gesture. You rest now, Doctor Turner, we’ll see you in the morning.”  
Moments later, Patrick Turner was trying to pick out a nightgown for his wife. This venture turned out to be a bit more challenging than initially thought until Patrick spotted an unfolded piece of blue and white striped fabric. It turned out to be one of his pajama tops, specifically the one he had lent Shelagh the night of the Bomb Scare. Patrick knew that Sister Julienne wouldn’t get the sentiment, but he hoped that it would show Shelagh that he cared. A last-minute thought popped his head as he passed Timothy’s room that he should put fresh sheets on the bed so that Sister Julienne could sleep there if she wanted to, or if Shelagh woke up and was uncomfortable coming to their marital bed with Sister Julienne’s help or didn’t want to.  
“I’ve brought Shelagh a nightdress and her dressing gown,” Patrick whispered to Sister Julienne as he reentered the room.   
“Thank you, Doctor,” Sister Julienne replied as she took the items from Patrick.  
“I also made up Timothy’s bed with fresh sheets, so that if you or Shelagh want to use it.”   
“Thank you, Doctor, that’s more than kind.”  
With that, Patrick headed to bed, and Sister Julienne returned to holding Shelagh’s hand.  
For several hours following the last interaction between Patrick and Sister Julienne, the Turner Flat was still and quiet, the only sound heard was Patrick’s soft snores from the bedrooms.


	17. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refresher: For several hours following the last interaction between Patrick and Sister Julienne, the Turner Flat was still and quiet, the only sound heard was Patrick’s soft snores from the bedrooms.

Suddenly, the flat filled with the sounds of terror and fear. The silent glass, broken by the hand of jagged screams.  
“No, NO, NO. Papa NO! Please,” Shelagh suddenly cried out. Luckily, Sister Julienne was able to get to her quickly.  
“My dear, Shelagh, It will be okay.” Sister Julienne whispered into Shelagh’s ear, hoping to wake her up.  
“I’m sorry, Papa, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I PROMISE. Please, Papa, let me go. Please?”  
Sister Julienne did next was something that she was not happy to do.  
“Shelagh. Shelagh.” She called while trying to shake her awake.  
“Sister?” Shelagh asked groggily, attempting to sit up as she spoke.  
“It’s alright, Shelagh, you had me a bit concerned. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I don’t know,” she spoke after a few moments of silence, “I-I d-dreamed I was h-home a-again. It was awful,” Shelagh whispered between sobs.  
“Sometimes, our heart cannot bear to hide its traumas within any longer. Even when our heart is overwhelmed, we can turn to the rock that is higher than ourselves.”  
“Oh, Sister.” Shelagh managed to whisper in response before laying her head against Sister Julienne’s shoulder.  
“How about, we get you into a nightdress and take it one step at a time from there.”  
“O-Okay.” She whispered.  
“Here, your husband brought a nightdress and your dressing gown out a bit ago.” Sister Julienne told her softly as she handed Shelagh the small pile of clothing. When Shelagh looked between the clothing, Sister Julienne, and the room, it became evident that Shelagh was nervous.  
“Shelagh, what’s wrong.” Sister Julienne asked her softly.  
“It sounds silly, but…”  
“What is it, my dear Shelagh?”  
“I don’t want to leave you; I’m scared, Sister. It feels as though my father is going to come ‘round the corner a-and h-hurt me.”  
“How about I walk you to the toilet, and wait for you in the hall. Shelagh, you’re safe, I promise, your father can’t hurt you.”  
“Yes, Please.”  
Shelagh wondered which nightdress her husband had chosen. Surely he had selected one of her newer nightdresses, but the pile didn’t feel substantial enough for one made of flannel. As she took the shirt from the bottom of the pile of clothing, she realized what her Patrick had done. Patrick brought her the nightshirt of his that comforted her a few years prior, the night that she slept on the settee. As Shelagh slipped the shirt over her head, she felt a small bit of relief.  
The dressing gown was another story. Shelagh couldn’t help but feel weighed down and as though she would never be free from the blanket of emotions that haunted her still. Deep down, Shelagh new that she should wear the dressing gown to keep herself warm, but the thought of the feelings weighing her down getting worse tormented her.  
“Shelagh, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you wearing your dressing gown?” Sister Julienne asked her as they returned to the settee.  
“I couldn’t… It felt like an anchor.” Shelagh whispered back.  
“My dear, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost. Shelagh? Are you okay? Shelagh?”


	18. Anchors of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refresher: "My dear, you look as though you've seen a ghost. Shelagh? Are you okay? Shelagh?" (Sister Julienne)

Without a single word, Shelagh flung her arms around Sister Julienne and began to sob.”  
“Shh, my dear. You’re safe; you’re in your own home.” Sister Julienne whispered in her ear.  
“P-please, d-don’t let go. I’m so afraid.”   
“How about we get you settled on the settee and have a cup of Horlicks to calm down?”  
“Can I see my husband for a few moments?” Shelagh whispered into Sister Julienne’s ear.  
“How about I see to your husband, and you make our Horlicks?”  
“Okay.”  
After lingering in Sister Julienne’s arms for a few more moments, Shelagh crept down the hall towards the kitchen. Sister Julienne sighed then; she was unsure whether she was fully ready to do what needed to happen. She was relieved when Patrick opened the door without much knocking at all.  
“Yes, Sister?” he whispered.  
“Shelagh wants to see you for a few minutes, and I think it might calm her down. She’s so pale and afraid.”  
“I understand, Sister, of course, I’ll see Shelagh. Did she wake from a nightmare?”  
“Yes, I’m afraid that she may have been dreaming of a day from early in her childhood after her mother passed. “  
“No wonder she screamed. I’ll go to her now, I must. I have to know she’s okay.”  
“She’s in the kitchen making Horlicks.”   
Shelagh had not made it to the kitchen to make Horlicks but had collapsed back onto the settee and was nearly asleep.  
“Patrick, you came.” She whispered as Patrick gathered her into his arms.   
“Of course I came, I promised I wouldn’t leave the flat in case you needed me. Are you alright, Shelagh? That must have been some nightmare for you to call out as you did.”  
“I-I was back home, and my, my father was hitting me for taking his Henleys.”  
“Oh, my dear Shelagh.”  
“Please don’t let go, Patrick, Please. I’m scared. I don’t want Papa to hurt me.” She pleads.  
“I won’t Shelagh. I promise. Would you like to come to bed?”  
“Yes.”  
“How about we say good night to Sister Julienne, and I’ll help you get settled in bed.”  
“Okay.”  
“Shelagh would like to say goodnight, Sister,” Patrick told Sister Julienne as they met in the hallway.  
“Goodnight, my dear Shelagh. May you rest in peace.”  
“Goodnight, Sister.”  
“Please stay and rest a bit Sister, you’ve been with her a good portion of the day.” Patrick tried to persuade Sister Julienne.  
“I’m afraid; I must get back. I’ll come and peek in tomorrow afternoon.”  
Once Shelagh was settled in bed, and Patrick had revisited the toilet, he looked at the clock again. Nearly thirteen hours had passed since he last checked the time. Those thirteen precious hours would go unmatched in his career, and Patrick later recounted those hours some years later as some that brought him closer to his beloved Shelagh.  
Patrick’s mind filled with dread, fear, and relief when he realized that he would need to pick up Shelagh’s Isoniazid in the morning, it was a blessing and a curse to have a chance to keep her out of The Linchemere and Northfield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to point out that Patrick's feelings are incredibly valid. It was Tuberculosis that brought them together, and Patrick fears that Tuberculosis, the condition Isoniazid was created to treat, would drive them apart. What do you think?


	19. Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick wonders if this is the beginning of a dangerous road for Shelagh's mental health.

The following morning, Patrick woke before Shelagh. Late that night, long after they had come to bed, Shelagh had worked herself against his chest so that her head rested against his shoulder and her arms encircled his torso. Rather than risk waking her from a restful sleep, Patrick decided that he would hold Shelagh until she woke up.  
“Good Morning, Shelagh,” Patrick whispered as Shelagh’s eyes fluttered open an hour or so later.  
The only response Shelagh could manage was to nestle herself deeper in Patrick’s arms, as though she were a small child seeking refuge from the fears of the world around her.  
“Shelagh, I need to pick up your prescription from the chemist today. Are you alright to stay on your own while I do so.”  
“Please don’t leave me alone, Patrick. Please?” Shelagh whispered.  
“How about if I see about having Sister Julienne come round and sit with you while I pop over to the chemist.”  
“Okay.”  
“Would you like some breakfast, Shelagh?”  
“No, Patrick”  
“Shelagh, you need to eat. Please will you try and eat something? Even If it’s only some toast.”  
“I don’t want to leave your arms; I’m safe in them.”   
“How about we start by getting dressed?”  
“Okay.”  
“Would you like me to step out while you change? Just into the hall? I don’t mind giving you a bit of privacy.”  
Suddenly, Patrick found himself in a repeat of the night they had gone to Nonnatus house for dinner. This time, as he stood in front of Shelagh’s closet, he had no idea which of the dresses to choose. Two of the most likely candidates Shelagh had already worn and Patrick was not sure exactly how many more soft, comfortable house dresses Shelagh owned. He was on the verge of choosing a blouse and skirt over any of Shelagh’s more elegant dresses when a muted purple caught his eye.   
“How about this one Shelagh?” Patrick asked her upon the realization that he had finally found a halfway decent housedress for her.  
“Okay,” she whispered in response.  
“I’m just going to go and call Sister Julienne while you get dressed, is that alright?”  
“O-Okay.”  
“Are you sure, Shelagh?”  
“yes”  
“Alright, Shelagh, I’ll leave you to change.”  
Patrick softly planted a kiss on Shelagh’s forehead before exiting the room and heading towards the telephone. As he dialed the familiar number to Nonnatus, he felt his breath catch with the emotions of the situation he was in.  
“Nonnatus House, Sister Julienne speaking.”  
“Sister, it’s Patrick. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming and sitting with Shelagh while I pop out to the chemist for Shelagh’s medication. She’s afraid to sit alone, and I offered to phone you first before I have her come with me.”  
“Of course, Doctor Turner, I’ll be over in a few minutes.”  
“Thank you, Sister, I appreciate it, and I know Shelagh would too if she understood what is happening.”  
“How is Shelagh today? Is she still afraid that her father is going to come after her?”  
“She’s okay; it seems as though we’ve found a middle ground between last night and how she was before.”  
“It is a promising development. Are you hopeful that the medication will help Shelagh?”  
“I hope so, although I’m not going to be overly excited until I see any improvements for myself. I had a conversation a week or so ago, and a colleague from training was telling me that the medication could make Shelagh worse.”  
“Oh, dear.”


	20. Small Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress begins with small steps.

"I'm on my way, Dr. Turner. I will see you both soon.”  
"Thank you, Sister. I am going to see if Shelagh might eat something before you get here.”  
"Alright, Dr. Turner. Goodbye."  
As Patrick put down the phone, he felt Shelagh take his arm and rest her head against it.   
"How about some breakfast before Sister Julienne gets here." He asked Shelagh quietly  
"Okay," she whispered after a moment.  
"What would you like for breakfast? How about some toast with jam?”  
"okay”  
"I’ll walk you to the settee, and then I’ll make us both some toast and tea for breakfast.”  
By a strange miracle, Patrick managed not to burn the toast, and keep the tea warm as he brought them over to the settee.   
“Here you are, Shelagh, eat up.”  
“Okay”  
Patrick watched as Shelagh slowly ate her toast with jam, stopping between every few bites for a sip or two of tea. Although it looked like it was the most challenging task in the world for Shelagh to complete, Patrick couldn’t help the pride he had in his wife for making an effort to eat and make progress to getting back on track.  
“How do you feel today? How are your toast and tea sitting?” Patrick asked as Shelagh finished her tea.  
“I feel okay; I suppose they’re sitting alright,” Shelagh responded.  
“Shelagh, I’m going to pick up your medication today. Are you ready to start it?”  
“I suppose.”  
“I promise Shelagh; I am here for you. No matter how rough it becomes before you feel well again.”  
“I love you, Patrick,” was Shelagh’s only response before moving across the settee to allow Patrick to hold her.  
They remained this way until a knock at the door pulled Patrick from the settee.  
“Hello, Sister,” Patrick greeted Sister Julienne cheerfully.  
“Greetings, Dr. Turner. How did breakfast go for Shelagh, was she able to stomach anything?” Sister Julienne responded.  
“She at two pieces of toast with jam, and drank a cup of tea. Shelagh says they are sitting well, but she seems a bit withdrawn and nervous still.”  
“Does Shelagh know that you’re going to pick up her medication, or is she aware that the doctor even recommended this?”  
“She knows that I’m going to get this medication and that the doctors have recommended it as part of her treatment, but I’m not certain that she understands what the medication is.”  
“Oh? What medication is it? Has Shelagh taken it before?”  
“It’s called Isoniazid; it is one of the pieces to the Triple Treatment..” Patrick Trailed it off as realization crossed Sister Julienne’s face.  
“She took It in the Sanitorium in 1958.”  
“Yes, Sister, do you know if she reacted to any of the medications that she took during her stay? I’m concerned that Shelagh isn’t able to think well enough to convey whether she did or didn’t.”  
“I remember that phase one when they started the first medication that was particularly rough for her because of how sick it made her, but I don’t remember the second and third medication phases causing her too much trouble.”  
“They did phases to introduce the medications?”  
“Yes, They wanted to start slowly adding one medication a day, but they had to slow down the process until they knew for sure that she was ready for the next drug. They wanted to know which medications caused the side effects that she was encountering. They managed to get all of the medicines introduced within the first week she was at the Sanatorium, and she still responded remarkably well to the treatment.”  
“That’s good to know, Sister. I should get going now if I’m to get Shelagh’s medication before the masses.”  
With that, Patrick led Sister Julienne to the sitting room and knelt in front of Shelagh.  
“I’m just going to pop over to the chemist for your medication, alright. I’ll leave you with Sister Julienne now. I love you, Shelagh, my brave, strong girl. I’ll see you soon,” he concluded before gently kissing her ring, as he had several years prior when he had proposed.  
As the green MG passed through the foggy streets of London’s East End, Patrick could not help but wonder if he was making the right decision to put his wife on a medication that was starting to be known for the opposite of what Shelagh needed it to do. As Patrick pulled up to the chemist, he was grateful that there were no other cars nearby, and seemingly no one in the chemist was waiting on medications.  
“Ah, good morning Doctor Turner. How can I help you?” Theodore Taylor asked as Patrick entered the shop.  
“I’m here to pick up a prescription for my wife, Theodore.”  
“Ah yes, Remind me of her name again, Patrick. She comes in here quite frequently to get the insulin for the district rounds, but I’m afraid I can't remember her first name.”  
“It’s alright, Theodore; I’m not sure I’ve ever properly introduced her to you. Her first name is Shelagh, do you need the spelling?”  
“Scottish spelling or English spelling, Patrick?”  
“Scottish.”  
“Ah, yes. Here it is, Patrick. Let’s get you rung up.”  
“Thank you, Theodore.”  
“Patrick, you are aware that there have been reports of this medication, making depression worse?”  
“I’ve heard, how much worse has the depression gotten?”  
“It varies, but I’ve heard that a handful that wasn’t too severe ended up admitted to the Linchmere, but others with more severe cases have needed referrals to psychologists and to stop taking the medication.”  
“Any suicides?”  
“No, not yet- but I have a feeling that if they don’t look into this, we’ll start hearing of them.”  
“Thank you, Theodore. I’d better get back to Shelagh now.”  
“Best wishes to you, both Doctor Turner.”  
It wasn’t often that Patrick Turner felt the immense need to rush home to his wife to overcome every one of his senses, but today it did. As the MG pierced through the ever-thickening fog, Patrick felt his need to be with his wife and be her rock to overcome this season of life growing.


	21. Tomorrow, we Pray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: General discussion of 'dangerous thoughts' (Suicidal Ideation/Suicidal Thoughts) and implications of Su*c*de and S**f H**m, Patrick is genuinely concerned and I believe this to be as minimally triggering as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose the terminology of 'dangerous thoughts' in hopes that it would be easier for more people to read, it leaves the implication in place for what I would like to write, but creates makes it more appropriate for a wider audience. Please, if you are struggling- reach out to the resources that are always after the most current chapter. I've tried to write Patrick to be understanding and caring once he realizes what Shelagh has endured silently.
> 
> *I'd like to note that I'm okay, just buried under uni work at the moment!*

As Patrick parked his beloved MG in front of the flat, he wondered how Shelagh was faring. Had he made the right decision to leave Shelagh at home with Sister Julienne, or should he have taken her to the chemist with him? His head spun with anxiety, as he finally made his way to the flat door and fished the key out of his pocket to unlock the door.   
Out of instinct, after years of late-night calls- especially with a newborn or young Timothy around, Patrick stopped to listen as he opened the flat door and stepped in. He froze in his tracks as he overheard a conversation likely was meant to be kept between Shelagh and Sister Julienne.  
“Shelagh, you must allow yourself to grieve. Your grief is bubbling to the surface and begging to come out.”  
“Oh, Sister it.. it feels as though I’m behind glass or in a box. I’m afraid to move; I don’t want it to shatter.”   
It was then that Shelagh fell sobbing into Sister Julienne’s arms.   
Patrick had never felt so helpless in his entire career as a GP, or his time as a husband. It was then that he entirely shut the door of the flat, having closed it enough to prevent a chill from entering the flat as he overheard the conversation between Shelagh and Sister Julienne.  
After several minutes, the sobs emerging from the sitting room lessened and then ceased.  
“Did you overhear our conversation Dr.Turner.”  
“Yes, Sister, I-I probably shouldn’t have. She wanted only you to know that.”  
“I wouldn’t say that she’s so fearful of telling you how poorly she truly is because she doesn’t want you to pity her.”  
“Oh, Sister.”   
“I would have told you, but I think it is important that you know she admits to having dangerous thoughts and being incredibly anxious.”  
“The latter I had noticed sister, but I had no idea about her thoughts. I should telephone the psychologist we saw the other day, who prescribed her medication.”  
“Shelagh is afraid that she will end up in the Linchmere if she told you how poorly she is.”   
“Sister, do you think a visit from Timothy and Angela, or a phone call would help?”  
“It might if anything, help her anxiety calm down. I believe that she can’t stomach the thought of losing everything, and being alone again.”  
“Like the time she spent at Saint Anne’s?”  
“Yes.”  
“Timothy is supposed to call after school today, and I’ve got Shelagh’s medication. Is she awake, Sister?”  
“Yes, she wanted a moment or two alone, though. I’ll see if she’s ready.”  
It felt like hours between the time that Sister Julienne reentered the sitting room, and the time he saw her nod that Shelagh was ready.  
“Patrick, you came back? You’re here?”  
“Shelagh, I went to the chemist to fetch your medication.”  
“Y-you did? It feels like days since you were here.”  
“I’ve only been gone for half nine.”  
Before Patrick could respond, Shelagh flings herself into his arms.  
“It’s alright, Shelagh. I’m here now, and I won’t leave unless you know where I’m going.”  
“Okay,” Shelagh whispered into his ear.  
“Shelagh, can we speak about what you told Sister Julienne?”  
“I’m sorry, I should have told you, I just couldn’t,” Shelagh sobbed.  
“It’s alright, Shelagh. If you feel you can’t tell me, but you feel that you could tell Sister Julienne, that option is always available. Okay?”  
“Okay.”  
“Shelagh, how dangerous have your thoughts been? Have you thought about it…” Patrick couldn’t bring himself to say what he needed to.  
“No. No. Not that dangerous.”  
“Have you thought about or attempted to harm yourself?  
“Y-yes.” Shelagh’s voice broke “I’ve wanted to hurt myself for several weeks… I don’t know how I haven’t yet.”  
“Oh, Shelagh,” Patrick replied as he pulled her into a hug, allowing her to sob for everything that had happened that morning.  
As her tears quieted down to silent trails on her tears, Patrick wanted Shelagh to know that she would feel better eventually.   
“Shelagh, I promise I will always be a safe ear for you, even if I won’t always be home with you. If I’m not home and you have these thoughts, will you please talk to Sister Julienne?”  
“Yes.”   
“Would you like to say goodbye to Sister Julienne?”  
“Yes.”  
Patrick left his wife and her beloved former superior to say their goodbyes in privacy as he took Shelagh’s medication into the Kitchen. He had to find a place that he would remember so that he could give it to Shelagh twice per day as the instructions dictated, but also that Shelagh wouldn’t find it and overdose if a dangerous thought overtook her and she attempted to act on it.   
Patrick didn’t want to think about Shelagh potentially not being by his side, and he knew that Shelagh wouldn’t do it with her conscious, rational thinking brain, but the clouded thoughts and ill mind would force her to do. Finally, he found a place in a cabinet he used frequently but had never known Shelagh to use and secured her medication in it.

“Shelagh, are you ready for lunch? We could have a short outing to the cafe a few streets over?” Patrick asked as he reentered the sitting room.”  
“Please don’t make me leave the flat. Patrick, I’m so scared of going out.”  
” it’s alright, Shelagh, how about we get some fish and chips? A short outing to the van and you don’t even need to leave the car. How about that? Are you willing to come with me?”  
Shelagh thought for a moment. It wasn’t precisely the compromise she wanted, but it would do.  
” Okay,” she answered meekly.  
This time, when Shelagh went to eat her fish and chips, with her husband settled next to her on their beloved settee, she managed a few more chips and even a bit of the fish before she felt unable to eat more.  
As Patrick and Shelagh finished their lunch, the phone in the hallway began to ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is taken from the song "Away from the Roll of the Sea"- check out the choir (choral) version, it's really good!


	22. Lullaby Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter title taken from the lyrics of "Away from the Roll of the Sea."

"Shelagh, I believe that might be Timothy ringing. Would you like to come to the telephone and speak to him and maybe Angela?"  
"Okay," Shelagh replied.  
As they entered the hall, Shelagh appeared to tense, as if she was nervous. Patrick gently took her hand as he answered the telephone.  
" Hello, Turner's residence."  
" Dad. Is that you?" Timothy responded.  
" Yes, son, how are you and Angela?"  
" Angela is napping, and Granny Parker made me phone you as soon as I arrived home from school this afternoon."  
" Would you like to speak to your mum, Tim?"  
" Yes, that would be splendid." and then he whispered," you owe me an explanation later."  
" Aright," Partick told Timothy before handing the phone to Shelagh and continuing to hold her hand while she spoke to her son, and later Angela.  
" Patrick, Timothy wants to speak to you."  
" Alright, How about I settle you on the settee. You seem a bit tired."  
" Okay."  
" Tim, I'm just going to settle mum on the settee."  
" Okay, Dad."  
It didn't take Patrick long to get Shelagh comfortable on the settee; she was tired, and her eyelids eventually lost the fight. Gently, Patrick kissed Shelagh's forehead before tucking a blanket tightly around her and returning to the hall.  
" Dad, why was Granny insisting that I call the moment I came home?"  
" I'm sorry, Tim, I phoned last night after you had gone to bed. Your mum hasn't been doing too well with everything. Tim, you might want to sit down for what I'm about to tell you."  
" Dad, what is it? Out with it, dad."  
" Tonight, I'm going to give your first dose of her prescription. Tim, the chemist, told me that it could make your mum worse."  
" Dad, you're a GP. Keep your GP's eye on her. I can't lose another mum." Timothy pled.  
" I will, Tim; I can't precisely share these worries with your mum."  
"But Dad, why can't you share them with Sister Julienne?"  
"I suppose you're right. How has your sister been?"  
"Angela doesn't understand Dad. She constantly asks me when you and mum are coming to get us, and clings to me until she falls asleep at night. I don't know how many times I've come home from school, and she's run to me crying."  
"I'm sorry, so sorry, Timothy." Patrick choked out after a moment.  
"It's okay, Dad. I took a photo of you and mum from the mantle before I left. It seems to help, and I let her fall asleep with it, and right before I go to sleep, I take it from her and put it on my nightstand."  
"Tim, I don't know what I did to deserve you for my son, but I should let you get to your studies."  
"Please, Dad, will you phone again in a few days? Maybe talk to Angela when you do?"  
"I can, Tim. Goodbye, son."  
"Goodbye, dad."  
As Patrick hung up the phone, he could hear Shelagh becoming increasingly restless.  
" Shh, it's alright. I'm here; I promise you're safe."  
" I am?"  
" Yes, dear, I promise that I won't let your thoughts hurt you. How about a nice cup of tea?"  
" Okay, will you sit with me? Please?"  
"Yes, of course, I will. I wouldn't dream of not being with you right now?"  
"I love you, Patrick." The look in Shelagh's eyes as she professed her love to him was a refreshing change.  
They enjoyed a bit of quiet time and the company that they were to each other. Most of the afternoon was spent in this peaceful, reflective state that only was broken by the clock striking six o'clock.  
"Shelagh, are you up to going out for Dinner? It doesn't have to be fancy?"  
"Okay, I suppose."  
"How about that little cafe down the road?"  
"Okay."  
Dinner, for the first time in days, if not weeks, was a success for Shelagh. It was the first time that she ate more than a few bites of a meal. She managed to eat her entire sandwich and most of her chips.  
When they returned to the flat, it was evident that Shelagh had worn herself with the outing, but it was progress in the right direction.  
" Shelagh, I am so proud of you for doing so well tonight." Patrick gently praised as he knelt in front of the settee that he had guided her to.  
"Y-you are?"   
" Yes, it's a small step towards getting better. Shelagh? In a few minutes, I'm going to give you the first dose of your mediation. I promise that you have my full support regardless if this medication works or not. Are you ready?"  
"Y-yes."  
"I'm just going to pop into the kitchen and get the medication and some tea for you. Alright?"  
" Okay."  
A few minutes later, Patrick returned to his place next to Shelagh on the settee, medication, and tea in hand.  
" Here you are, have some tea first, and then take this tablet." he coaxed," that's it, now chase it with some more tea."  
" No more, Partick, please."  
" It's alright if you're finished I'll take your tea through to the kitchen."  
" Okay."  
I'll just be a moment." Patrick was true to his word and had Shelagh's medicine put back into its cupboard and the teacup set into the sink in just a few moments, before rejoining Shelagh.  
"Patrick, will you hold me? Please? I'm scared."  
"Yes, of course, Shelagh. How about we get into our pajamas, and then I'll hold you as long as you need."  
" Okay."  
"I'll be back in a moment with your nightdress, and then I'll pop into the lav and get changed."  
Okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanted to clarify the fact that I've made a few errors in past parts that I feel would be to difficult to correct with changes for those who have read as I've posted:   
> 1\. Timothy was supposed to call before school, somehow I thought he was supposed to call after school- hence the error.  
> 2\. Shelagh is gradually eating more- for now, which is a good sign (even if I can't write it very well).  
> 3\. Patrick has been gone SINCE half-nine, I'd assume it was "quarter or half" ten when he arrived back home.


	23. A Vignette of Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelagh makes a bit more progress, and Patrick has a moment (as anyone in his position might).

Thirty minutes later, Shelagh was back in Patrick's nightshirt and settled with him on the settee. It was in his arms that Shelagh didn't feel as weighed down or alone as she did when she wasn't.  
"Shelagh?"  
"Yes, Patrick?" She mumbled sleepily.  
" How are you feeling? It's alright, to be honest, especially if you aren't feeling good."  
"I-I feel okay. I'm safe in your arms, Patrick, and I don't want to leave them."  
"Shelagh, I can't hold you forever, but when I can, I will. Shelagh, will you promise to tell me if something is off? Even if it is your routine?"  
"Yes." She whispered, eyes closing.  
Shelagh didn't register Patrick kissing her on the forehead or when he got up to answer the door.   
"Shelagh, Shelagh," a familiar voice brought her back to consciousness.  
Mumbling a bit, Shelagh opened her eyes to Sister Julienne, and Patrick knelt next to the settee.  
"Shelagh, I've brought you and Patrick some dinner. Would you like me to stay for a bit? I don't mind?"  
"No, Sister. I want to sleep." Shelagh responded.  
" How about I stay till after dinner and clean up?" Sister Julienne offered.  
" Okay."  
They helped her to the table and sat on either side of her as she ate.   
" You're doing so well, Shelagh." coxed Sister Julienne.  
" I'm so proud of you, Shelagh," Patrick added.  
" No more. Please." Shelagh finally whispered.  
" You've done well, Shelagh. You've eaten most of the food on your plate." Her husband praised.  
" Patrick, I'm tired."  
" How about I get you settled in bed and then come and help Sister Julienne finish up in here?"  
" Okay"  
Although tired, Shelagh wasn't sure she would be able to sleep without her husband holding her.  
" I love you, beautiful girl; you're doing so well. Tomorrow I'll give you another dose of medication, and we'll work on getting you feeling better," Patrick told Shelagh as he helped her to bed.  
" I love you too, Patrick. Patrick?" a sleepy Shelagh responded.  
" Yes, Shelagh?"  
" Can we call and talk to Angela again tomorrow? Please?" Shelagh asked as she fought the holds of sleep.  
" Of course, we can." Patrick whispered before kissing his sleeping wife, "anything to help you feel better."

After turning the light off, Patrick made his way to the kitchen to help Sister Julienne but found her waiting for him on the settee with a cup of tea.

" Thank you, Sister."  
" You're welcome, Doctor Turner. Are you okay?"  
" It's just; it's so hard to watch Shelagh going through this and not be able to fix her with my medical knowledge."  
" Patrick, you must remember that you aren't alone in this. Anyone at Nonnatus would rush over at the drop of a hat if they knew of any way to help. You aren't alone, and neither is Shelagh."  
"I know that it's hard. Sister, am I doing the right thing by giving Shelagh a medication for her depression?"  
"If this is only part of her treatment, and from what you've told me it is, then yes. Why are you concerned, Dr.Turner?"  
"It's just, the medication that Shelagh is on, everyone is telling me has been known to make the patient worse. I don't know how much worse I could handle."  
"We will approach this as a team, and as a Doctor, you can pull her off of it at any time if you see an important reason."  
"I suppose you're right, sister, and I suppose I just needed someone who understands, and Timothy suggested that I speak to you."  
"Timothy is getting very wise. Everyone has a moment now and then when they worry about the person they care about the most. How about a short walk to clear your head? I'll stay here and sit with Shelagh while you do so.  
" Are you sure, Sister?"  
" Yes, for you to give Shelagh your full attention, you must care for yourself."  
" Alright, Sister, I'll make it a break walk and be back before you know it."

After sending Doctor Turner off, Sister Julienne retreated to the bedroom so that she could sit with Shelagh. Although Shelagh stirred a few times, she quickly fell back into a restful sleep a moment or two later.

Sometime later, Patrick bid Sister Julienne good night and climbed in bed next to his wife. That night felt as though they were making progress, but they didn't know that the next days would bring the beginning of a change.

A change that would challenge Patrick Turner as a husband and caretaker, but also as a GP. At the same time, GPs across London were experiencing the same troubles, without the personal connection that Patrick faced.


	24. Building Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When we build a culture of understanding and uphold human dignity, we build a better world." - Ban Ki Moon

The next morning, Partick awoke before Shelagh and surveyed his surroundings. Overnight he had settled uncharacteristically onto his back, and Shelagh had come to rest her head with one ear on his heart. Rather than risking Shelagh waking up, Patrick remained still and ran his fingers through Shelagh’s beautiful hair.

” Good Morning Shelagh. How are you feeling?”  
” A bit groggy, but I’m okay.”  
“Are you ready for breakfast and your medication?”  
“Not yet, Patrick, please can we stay here for a few more minutes?”  
” Alright.”

After a few minutes, Patrick noticed Shelagh grimace as though she were in pain.  
” Shelagh, are you okay? Please, is something wrong?”  
” My stomach feels a bit queasy, and I believe it might be to do with my cycle.”  
“How about some Toast and Jam? Do you think that might help?”  
“I don’t know, but I’ll try it.”  
“How about I choose your dress, and you make the toast?”  
The longer Patrick waited to get toast into Shelagh, the peakier she looked, suddenly Patrick decided against his previous decision.  
“Shelagh, how about you take a moment and visit the toilet, and I’ll pop down and make some buttered toast for you.”  
The only response Shelagh could manage was a nod. She felt ill as she had only one other time in the past, in the early days of her time in the sanatorium.

Shelagh thankfully didn’t lose the precious nutrients of the past few meals she had eaten, but it didn’t stop her from feeling awful and wanting to spend the day in Patrick’s arms.

” Here’s your toast and a nice glass of water, or do you think tea might sit better?”  
” Thank you, Patrick. I think I feel more up to water and toast.”  
” Right, after you’ve eaten and given it a minute to set, I’ll give you your medicine.”  
” Okay.”  
” I’m just going to pop into the hall and make a phone call, and then I’ll come back and hold you.”  
“Thank you, Patrick.” 

Based on Shelagh’s peaky appearance and weak stomach, Patrick wanted to find out the real treatment plan that Shelagh had been on and what happened during the duration of her time at the Sanitorium.

“Saint Anne’s Sanitorium reception, how may I be of assistance.”  
” Yes, Hello. My name is Dr.Patrick Turner, and I’m calling about obtaining records about a patient of mine.”  
“Right. I’ll get you transferred.”  
After a short hold, the records receptionist informed Patrick that someone would call once his specific request was fulfilled. With this done, Patrick retrieved Shelagh’s medication and held her for a time until she felt up to getting dressed and making lunch. 

In the afternoon, Patrick and Shelagh took a short walk in the park and enjoyed the fresh air.   
” How are you feeling, Shelagh? You seem to be feeling a bit better.” Patrick asked as they paused to rest on a park bench.  
” I still feel a bit peaky now and then, but I do feel a bit better.”  
” Shelagh, I-I know you’re scared, but what part scares you the most? Or I suppose parts because multiple things could scare you.”  
” Oh Patrick, so many parts of this do. I was scared to tell you that I was hurting, that nothing made sense when you were at work, and I was home without you. I didn’t know what you’d think if I told you that all I wanted to do was cry and let you hold me.” as Shelagh whispered the last portion, Patrick hooked her chin and turned her face towards his. She had tears in her eyes, and she looked so childish.  
” Shelagh, it’s alright. I’m here for you, to grieve is human. Together, we will make progress.”  
” Can we call Angela when we get home? I need to hear her nonsense.”  
” We can do that. But first, I should tell you about the phone call I made this morning.”  
” Oh?”  
” Shelagh, you feeling poorly could be to do with the medication. I made a phone call to the sanatorium to have your treatment records sent over.”  
” Patrick, you think me feeling unwell could be because of a medication I took then? But it’s been years.”  
” Shelagh, one of the medications that you took years ago, is being used to treat depression. You’re retaking Isoniazid.”  
“Patrick, I think I’d like to go home now and call Angela.”  
“Alright, Dearest, let’s go.”

Shelagh did seem a bit better after talking to Angela if one could call it a conversation. Sister Julienne brought dinner again that night, and before long, it was time for another dose of medication.  
“Shelagh, are you upset about this medication? Are you upset that I am choosing to medicate you?”  
“N-No Patrick, what makes you think that?”  
“You seemed upset when I spoke about you, possibly…”  
Suddenly Shelagh was in tears and clinging to him for dear life. It took a while, but Patrick eventually settles Shelagh down.  
” It’s so hard, Patrick. Everything reminds me of the past and Sister Evangelina. Sometimes I think I hear her in the hallway or worse, see her.”  
” It’s alright, Shelagh; you’re safe. No matter what happens. You won’t wake up, everything being a dream.”  
” A-are you sure? I don’t know if I could cope with it.”  
” Yes, would you like to sleep on the Settee tonight in pajama top?   
“No, but I will if you want me to.”  
“Shelagh, I’m not upset. I promise I thought it might help a bit.”  
” Please, Patrick, just hold me. I don’t want to talk anymore.” Shelagh pled, tears still streaming down her face.  
” Alright, but first, I need you to take your medication.”  
“Okay.”


	25. Nestled in Dreams

Patrick went quickly to the kitchen to get Shelagh's medication, trying to minimize the time she needed to endure without being in his arms.

"Here, Shelagh, I promise I don't have to leave you for a while now."  
"Patrick, will you hold me now? Please?" Shelagh sounded young and scared, a combination Patrick had never heard from Shelagh.  
"Yes, Shelagh. You try and rest now."   
Rather than trying to respond, Shelagh pushed herself deeper into his arms and let Patrick be her rock. Unfortunately, this sense of serenity created between the two of them didn't last very long, and roughly fifteen minutes after they settled, Shelagh suddenly sat up, promptly vomiting in a shockingly Angela way.   
"Are you alright, Shelagh?"  
"Patrick, my stomach is churning and very painful."  
"It's alright Shelagh, how about I walk you to the lavatory and then nip into the bedroom and grab you a clean nightdress?"  
"Alright," Shelagh whispered weakly.  
As Patrick searched in their bedroom for a nightdress, he encountered a setback- the only nightdresses he could find were far out of season. After a few moments of thought, Patrick pulls a Burgundy nightshirt out of his drawer. It was from a pair of pajamas that both he and Shelagh found comforting." Perfect," he thought  
In the end, Shelagh had a total of four vomiting spells and one dry heaving session. Patrick couldn't do this; he couldn't watch Shelagh go backward because other people didn't want to provide critical information.

Once Shelagh and Patrick decided that it was safe, Patrick gently tucked Shelagh into the settee, retreating to the phone in the hall. Patrick needed answers; he needed to know whether Shelagh was reacting to the Isonizad that she was on because it could become dangerous.

There was one person that the Sanitorium would be obligated to release information to John Evans, his current locum. After six rings, the phone picked up with a weary voice.  
" Evans residence, Doctor speaking."  
" John. It's Patrick. I need your help with something."  
" Patrick, it's a bit late to be doing projects."  
" John. I'm serious; I can't get Saint Anne's to release information about Shelagh to me, and I'm a bit worried that she has an allergic reaction."  
" I'm sorry, Patrick; I should have known that you'd need something extraordinary. Were you married during her time in the Sanatorium?"  
" No, and I'm not sure whether her records would be under Shelagh Mannion- her first and maiden name, or Sister Bernadette from the Order of Saint Raymond Nonnatus."  
" I'll see what I can do, but my advice would be to stop the medication now and inform the doctor who prescribed it in the morning."  
" Thank You, John, I appreciate your help. I will inform her other doctor in the morning."  
" You're welcome, Patrick. I'll talk to you in the morning. Give my best to Mrs.Turner too."  
" Goodnight, John."  
" Goodnight, Patrick."  
When Patrick put the phone down a few moments later, he was made aware of soft whimpers emerging from the living room. When he reentered the room, he noticed that Shelagh was no longer sleeping peacefully, but fully awake and seemingly in excruciating pain.  
" What's wrong, Shelagh? Where does it hurt?" Patrick gently asked as he knelt next to the settee.  
" My stomach Patrick. It hurts so much."  
" How about I help you to the lavatory and get some milk of magnesia for you? Would that help?"  
" I don't know, but okay."  
Knowing that he would spill the milk of magnesia if he tried to get it first, Patrick walked Shelagh to the lavatory and then went about getting a dose of the medication ready for her.  
Although the medication did seem to ease Shelagh's discomfort, she still looked miserable, and the pair fell asleep, nestled in dreams together on the settee.  
It felt like mere minutes later that Patrick woke to the sound of the telephone ringing. He was glad that Shelagh seemed to be in a deep sleep and undisturbed by the event.  
" Tuner residence, Dr.Turner speaking," Patrick answered with sleep thick in his voice.  
" Patrick, it's John." the caller frantically spoke.  
" John, what's wrong?"  
" I just received information about your wife's treatment at Saint Anne's."  
" John, what do her notes say."  
" They say that the Isonizad that she took then caused stomach upset and an allergic reaction when she started it. They had to pull her off of it and start the other two drugs before restarting it."  
" John-"  
" Patrick, I need you to get her to the maternity home as soon as possible. I need to keep an eye on Mrs.Turner until I feel confident that the Isonizad is out of her system entirely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry you've had to wait so long for this chapter, and it's shorter than other chapters that I've put up faster. I'm not exactly sure when the next chapter will be up, mostly because of some things happening in my personal life. I have two days off later this week from work, but I don't know if I'll get a chapter up- thus, I'm sorry about the cliffhanger.


	26. Haze Burns Across the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hazy- the only word Patrick Turner could use to describe those fateful days when asked about them later in life.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes, John. I’m going to hang up now so that I can bring her to the Maternity Home.”  
“Right. I’ll meet you there.”  
Quickly Patrick put the phone down. By a marvelous miracle, Patrick hadn’t woken Shelagh with his antics, but he couldn’t help being suspicious. As he returned to the living room, Patrick couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of his wife on the couch. To see Shelagh resting peacefully on the settee was a sight that he had waited weeks to see. 

Gingerly, Patrick picked Shelagh up, still wrapped in the blanket they had laid together beneath. The lack of fight and stir was rattling him, but he had to persevere. It was a challenge to open and shut the flat door and open the MG’s passenger door with Shelagh in his arms. Although Patrick wanted to break down in tears, take Shelagh’s hand, and will that she wake up with the snap of his fingers, his General Practitioner’s brain told him otherwise. 

Patrick would later recount that night as being more lonely than during their forbidden love and praise the miracle that was John Evans. Still, only one person could know how the night’s composition, God, the hidden constant throughout Shelagh’s Pain.

It felt like hours later when Patrick pulled up to the door of Maternity Home Luckily; John Evans was able to help Patrick get Shelagh settled into the Maternity Home side room. 

“Patrick, will you please wait for me in the office? I’m just going to get your wife started on some fluids and take her vitals.”  
“Alright John,” Patrick answered weakly. As he entered the office, he began feeling as though he couldn’t suppress his fears and feelings much longer. 

“If you’d like, you’re welcome to sit with her. Patrick, what’s wrong.”  
“It’s just overwhelming. I’ll be fine in a moment.”  
“Patrick, I hate to contradict what I just told you, but you really should go back to your flat. It looks to me as though you need a break. I know it takes courage, but you can’t keep pouring from a teacup that you don’t refill.”  
“John, when did you get so wise?”  
“It hides behind my medical knowledge and father like manner. Do you want me to call Sister Julienne? I know that she and your wife are close .”  
“Please don’t, John? I’m sure she’d rather hear it from me.”  
“Alright Patrick, but you really should go home. You’d be of no comfort to your wife if she woke up right at this moment.”  
“I can’t, that’s our home. If I go home it... It… would break me.”  
“Go to the children then. Go and let them comfort you, and I’m sure that angel of a daughter wouldn’t mind some cuddles from her father.”

Suddenly, Patrick broke. Angela. He had given his angel daughter to someone who would care for her and give her attention but had no understanding of what her mother was going through.  
Eventually, everything began blurring together. Vaguely, Patrick could recall driving to Granny Parker’s home and climbing into bed next to Angela. His angel snuggled right up to him- just like her mum.

Although everything else from the next day was Hazy, Patrick could vividly remember the conversation he had when he finally told Sister Julienne about Shelagh.

“Nonnatus House, Sister Julienne speaking.”  
“Sister, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Patrick chokes out as tears burned his eyes.  
“Doctor Turner, is that you? What’s wrong?”  
“It’s Shelagh-“  
“Oh, my dear. What’s wrong? What’s happened, Patrick?” He could bear Sister’s demeanor changing.  
“The sanitarium wouldn’t release her records. She’s having an allergic reaction to the Isonizad.”  
“Where is Shelagh, Patrick?”  
“Doctor Evans had me bring her to the Maternity Home for observation.”  
“When?”  
“Late last night. Sister, it’s so blurry- I don’t remember much.”  
“It will be okay, Patrick. Where are you now?”  
“I’m at Granny Parker’s. Doctor Evans suggested that I go to the children and bring Angela back with me.”  
“I’ll go to Shelagh now, and you join me when you’re ready. Nonnatus House will be ready for when you’d like to drop Angela off and when you’re ready to rest.”  
“Thank you, Sister. I appreciate it, and I will be round soon.”  
“Take your time, Patrick. Breathe for a moment, you’d do Shelagh no good if you don’t remember yourself.”  
“Yes, Sister.”  
“Goodbye now, Patrick, enjoy the children.”  
“Yes, Sister. Goodbye.”


	27. Holding onto Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We have always held to the hope, the belief, the conviction that there is a better life, a better world, beyond the horizon.”  
>  \- Franklin Delano Roosevelt

It wasn’t until the second day that Shelagh was at the Maternity Home that Patrick found it within himself to come to her bedside with Angela. When they arrived, Sister Julienne was sitting by Shelagh’s side, holding her hand while praying. 

Shelagh appeared so innocent and young laying in that bed, yet Shelagh faced more danger than had faced in her life. Patrick couldn’t bear the thought that Shelagh’s time might run out on earth before she could accomplish all of her hopes and dreams.

“Doctor Turner,” a voice broke Patrick from his thoughts, only to realize that his tears were beginning to reach his shirt.  
“Sister,” he managed before his voice broke.  
“Shelagh’s doing much better. Doctor Evans thinks that she might wake soon.” Sister Julienne informed him before taking Angela from his arms. “This little one and I will pop back over to Nonnatus House to give you a moment alone with Shelagh.”  
“Please, no, Sister. I’d rather have Shelagh wake to the three people she loves most.”  
“She will, but I believe you, Doctor Turner, could use a moment to compose yourself and sit with her.”  
“Alright, Sister.” Patrick finally gave in.   
“We’ll be back in two ticks, in the meantime, please Doctor Turner, sit with her and remind her that you love her and you are here for her when she’s ready to wake.

With those parting words, Sister Julienne and Angela left for Nonnatus House, leaving Patrick with his thoughts and fears. He quietly dried his tears before mustering the courage to enter the side room where Shelagh rested. As Patrick entered her room, the light caught Shelagh’s hair and lit it golden blonde, as the illusion of peace, settled throughout the room. 

“Darling,” Patrick managed to squeeze out in a tear thickened voice as he sank into the chair next to Shelagh’s bed, “I love you, Shelagh.”

It was the only sediment he could imagine at the moment. Although he already planted a kiss in Shelagh’s hair, he placed another, out of habit on Shelagh’s ring, as Patrick brought her hand to his face, this was how Sister Julienne found Shelagh and Patrick when she returned from Nonnatus with Angela. It nearly broke her heart to see Patrick so desperate, and Shelagh unable to relieve at least one of his fears. 

“Are you ready for a lie-down Miss Angela?” Sister Julienne asked as she held Angela in her arms while standing in the doorway of Shelagh’s room. Angela’s only response was to nod and rub at her eyes. “Come on then, let’s have a lie down with mummy.”

If Patrick Turner thought his heart couldn’t shatter any further, he was proven wrong when he saw Sister Julienne gently lie Angela down with Shelagh. It was humbling to know the peace that the young child received from her mum, even if she was unable to provide comfort consciously. It was this peace that provided reassurance to Patrick and Sister Julienne that better times would come for all.

As hours passed by, Angela awoke from her nap and went back to Nonnatus House to run amuck amongst people who adored her and needed a distraction from their troubles. The hours at the maternity home, without Angela, were unusually quiet, almost as though the world knew that those in the side room needed the serenity to comprehend what might be.

Although the hours were peaceful and quiet, they passed agonizingly slow. Each moment that Shelagh wasn’t awake increasingly worried Patrick and Sister Julienne. It was dinner time when Doctor Evans returned to assess Shelagh.  
“Sister, Patrick.” Doctor Evans quietly called as he entered the room.

“Doctor Evans,” they responded quietly.

“I’m going to reassess Mrs.Turner here if you’d like to take an opportunity to step out and get a bite to eat.”

“Thank you, Doctor. We shall step out- but we will not leave,” Sister Julienne responded to the Doctor. 

Patrick was grateful; he wasn’t sure that he had the words to speak with Doctor Evans. It was moments like these that Patrick was made aware that Sister Julienne’s presence was not only a balm to pregnant and laboring women but Shelagh and himself as well.   
“Would you like to pray with me, Doctor? “ Sister Julienne asked once they settled in the waiting room.  
“I’m afraid I’m not the most religious person, Sister.” Patrick knew it was a weak protest, but worth informing Sister Julienne.   
“Shelagh has informed me of this many times, but the lord commands us that where two or three gather in his name, he is in our midst*.”  
“Alright, Sister, anything that might help Shelagh wake sooner.”  
“Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. The Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.**”  
“Amen,” Patrick whispered.  
“Amen,” a Third voice spoke, it was Doctor Evans who was now standing in front of the pair.

After a moment of silence, Patrick finally asked, “How is she, Doctor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *- Adapted from Matthew 18:20 NKJ (New King James Version)
> 
> **- Catholic Version found at EWTN (https://www.ewtn.com/catholicism/devotions/our-father-395)


	28. Covered by His Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He shall cover you with his wings and you shall be safe under his feathers."- Psalm 91:4

“I believe Mrs. Turner is improving slowly. But, she is still weak.”  
“Thank you, Doctor Evans,” Sister Julienne Responded.  
“I’ll let you return to her side now, but I would like to check on her one more time before I head home for the evening.”  
“Thank you, John,” Patrick commented before the pair reentered Shelagh’s room. 

Ordinarily, seeing Shelagh asleep would be a sight that calmed and relaxed him. Now he just wanted Shelagh to wake up and reassure him that she would be okay.

“Doctor Turner, why don’t you head back to Nonnatus House and spend time with Angela,” Sister Julienne broke the unexpected silence.  
“I’d rather be here when she wakes, Sister,” Patrick countered.  
“Please, Doctor Turner, take care of yourself. You’ll be no good to Shelagh in your present condition, and if she wakes, you’re only a phone call away.”

This time as Patrick paused to think, a heavy silence filled the air. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but merely heavy with the implications that each choice might bring, and it was several minutes before Patrick could answer Sister Julienne.

“Alright, Sister, I’ll go but only for a short time.”  
“I shall see you back here later, then, in the meantime, enjoy Angela’s company and refresh yourself a bit.”

As Patrick left the surgery, Sister Julienne could feel her anxieties settling in. She worried that Shelagh would never wake up and that if she woke up, she would have an impairment from the medication. All that Sister Julienne could do now was pray and will that the Lord fulfill his will with Shelagh, no matter what came from this setback.

As she took Shelagh’s hands, Sister Julienne began to recite the verses of compline in time with her sisters back at Nonnatus house. 

“Glory to the Father and to the Son, and to the holy spirit; as it was, in the beginning, is now and shall be forever. Amen. Alleluia*.” 

Sister Julienne moved through the verses and songs of compline; she reached Psalm 91*,

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High and abides under the shadow of the Almighty, Shall say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my stronghold, my God, in whom I put my trust.’ For he shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence. He shall cover you with his wings, and you shall be safe under his feathers; his faithfulness shall be your shield and buckler. Amen.”

“You shall not be afraid of any terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day; Of the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor of the sickness that destroys at noonday. Though a thousand fall at your side and ten thousand at your right hand, yet it shall not come near you. Your eyes have only to behold to see the reward of the wicked. Amen.”

“Because you have made the Lord your refuge and the Most High your stronghold, There shall no evil happen to you, neither shall any plague come near your tent. For he shall give his angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. Amen.”

“They shall bear you in their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone. You shall tread upon the lion and adder; the young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot. Because they have set their love upon me; therefore, I will deliver them; I will lift them up, because they know my name. Amen.”

“They will call upon me, and I will answer them; I am with them in trouble, I will deliver them and bring them to honor. With long life will I satisfy them and show them my salvation. Amen.”

Sister Julienne broke as she whispered the last lines of the verse, her voice choked by tears. Psalm 91 was his promise to not only her but Doctor Turner, Angela, Timothy, and Shelagh that everything would be okay, even if it weren’t okay at that moment. 

It was that moment that she grieved that Shelagh may not wake up here in Poplar, but rather in heaven with the good Lord who loved her dearly. Sister Julienne wasn’t sure that she could accept the Lord’s plan at that moment. Shelagh was the woman that she had come to love, like the daughter she would never have. 

Moments like this rarely come in one’s life- and are more complicated than outright acceptance, something Sister Julienne knew from her spiritual studies as postulant and novice but hadn’t ever experienced during her religious life. The moments where the only conceivable course of action is prayer and presence with the one who needs it most, where silence holds little meaning when one waits to determine whether the person will wake or be lead on to the promised land, and memories take over the thoughts of the companion.   
These are the moments that Sister Andrew Marie*, the beloved mistress of postulants, had long ago described the most critical moments in a relationship- whether with another person or the Lord himself.   
“The moments where prayer and silence overlap, but are not comforting are the moments that we, as sisters, must be vigilant of. These moments will give you fulfillment and control when you are aiding a family in need, but when they occur within our community, it gives us a chance to let the Lord our God bring his magic to the earth.” 

It was then that Sister Julienne’s thoughts turned to who might know what to do in this situation, other than someone who had passed nearly fifteen years ago, but the only answer Sister Julienne could come up with was Shelagh.

Shelagh had the gift of knowing what to do in nearly every situation. If she were awake now, maybe Sister Julienne’s tears wouldn’t have broken free. Perhaps she wouldn’t have let out several sobs- only to be launched deeper into despair by the lack of response from Shelagh. 

There was nothing more than Sister Julienne wanted at that moment than for Shelagh to wake up. Sister Julienne needed her daughter, and anchor by her side. As the tears continued to roll down her cheeks, she gently laid her head next to Shelagh’s while still holding her hand. 

“Please, my dear Shelagh, wake up,” she choked in a whisper “oh lord, please protect my dear Shelagh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anglican Compline (Likely Modern Compline): https://www.churchofengland.org/prayer-and-worship/worship-texts-and-resources/common-worship/daily-prayer/night-prayer-compline
> 
> A note on Sister Andrew Marie: Sister Andrew Marie is a #MediaNun and part of the Daughters of Saint Paul. She is on Twitter, and her handle is @SrAndrewFSP.


	29. By Dawn's Early Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10 NKJV

Sister Julienne couldn’t manage any further words to comfort Shelagh beyond that point. She couldn’t bear the thought that Shelagh might potentially be on a journey to the heavenly host whom she had devotedly served for nearly a decade, although she realized that it was selfish. 

As Sister Julienne began to accept that Shelagh may no longer walk on the earth by her side, Shelagh was very slowly coming back to consciousness. As Doctor Evans, she would later learn his name, left the room, Shelagh could feel herself beginning to come back into the present. With each line of Psalm 91 that Sister Julienne recited by her bed, Shelagh’s understanding and grip of the conscious world grew more robust. The words of Psalm 91, an integral part of compline and a verse that had shepherded her through several small uncertainties, took on a new meaning when she realized that Sister Julienne was weeping as she spoke them. 

Although Shelagh wanted to speak, she didn’t have the strength to form words. “How long have I been asleep” she wondered in her head before drifting out of consciousness once again. 

“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” Shelagh heard Sister Julienne whisper after a short while.

John 14:27- a verse early in her marriage supported Shelagh through her exploratory procedure and Patrick’s exhaustion. Suddenly, the strength to respond welled up within Shelagh.

“Sister?” Shelagh whispered as she opened her eyes.  
“My dear Shelagh,” Sister Julienne whispered as tears welled in her eyes.  
“Oh, Sister,” Shelagh managed before she slipped back into a slumber. Although she wanted to stay awake and know everything from the past several days, Shelagh couldn’t fight the need to sleep any longer. 

Slowly, the evening faded into night, and Doctor Evans returned to check Shelagh once again. Upon his entrance to the room, Sister Julienne felt unfounded anxiety about what he might say when she told him that Shelagh had woken for a few precious moments, but had quickly fallen asleep. 

“Hello, Sister,” Doctor Evans greeted as he entered the room.  
“Greetings Doctor Evans,” Sister Julienne returned.  
“I’m just going to conduct my checks now. Have you noticed any changes in Mrs. Turner’s condition?”  
Sister Julienne hesitated for a brief moment, anxious, before quietly responding, “She woke for a few fleeting moments, but fell back to sleep.”  
“ I see, Sister. Did she say anything?”  
“Yes, only a few words, but she did speak.”  
“I’d say that’s all we’ll see for a while. Based on what I see tonight, I would wager that it will be a week or so before Mrs.Turner truly wakes up. It isn’t uncommon for this type of thing to happen.”*  
“I see Doctor, Thank you.”  
“I’ll take my leave now, Sister. Goodnight.”  
‘Goodnight, Doctor.”

Sister Julienne’s heart shattered; she knew that Shelagh was close to coming back to them. Quietly, the tears flowed down her face as she prayed that Shelagh would prove Doctor Evans wrong. 

“Dear Lord, I pray that you leave your piece with Shelagh. Let her feel your healing hands as she fights against this medication that has made her so ill. By your hands Lord, may your will be done, may she be healed. Lord, I pray that you present yourself into Doctor Evans’s life, and provide your will to guide his hands as he cares for Shelagh. May your will be carried out as commanded on earth as it is in heaven. In your name, I pray for Shelagh, Doctor Evans, and Patrick Turner. Amen.”

The room then fell into silence as a broken-hearted Sister Julienne continued in silent prayer. Although part of her religious obligations, prayer had a soothing effect on Sister Julienne. Something about acknowledging the elements of life and the emotions that accompanied those elements. It was as if the words that filled her head formed a song, unique in pattern as a fingerprint or strand of DNA, that lifted her heart towards the heavens. It wasn’t long after she started that a small whimper, and then a voice broke Sister Julienne’s prayers. 

“Sister?” Shelagh whimpered, “Sister, are you there?”  
“Yes, my dear Shelagh,” Sister Julienne soothed as she began to caress Shelagh’s hand, “I’m here; I will not leave your side.”  
“Sister? Will you hold me? I-I feel so lost, and as though I’m the only person here.”

Patrick Turner found the two clinging to each other the next morning. It broke his heart to see how tightly his wife clung to her beloved Sister Julienne, and although Patrick’s heart hurt that he couldn’t help Shelagh, he knew deep down that the right thing to do was give her the people she needed when she needed them. As Patrick sat down in the chair next to Shelagh’s bed, he noticed that Sister Julienne was beginning to stir, before finally waking up.

“Good morning, Doctor Turner.” Sister Julienne spoke groggily.  
“Morning, Sister, how is she?” Patrick queried

Sister Julienne wasn’t entirely sure how to answer his question. Although Shelagh had woken up, she hadn’t spoken much, and Sister Julienne wasn’t quite sure what to make of what little Shelagh did say the night prior.

“I’m not quite sure, Doctor Turner.”  
“Oh?”  
“Shelagh barely spoke last night when she did wake up, and what little she did speak was more of a plea for help.”  
“Oh, dear, Oh, Sister.”

The room once again plunged into silence, as Sister Julienne’s stomach rolled with the thought of telling Doctor Turner, how little faith his locum was putting into Shelagh’s strength and ability to heal and overcome.

“Doctor Turner?” Sister Julienne spoke after a while.  
“Yes, Sister?” he responded tentatively.  
“Doctor Evans came while you were out.”  
“What did he say? Will she make a full recovery?”  
“Doctor Evans believes it will be several weeks before she wakes up. Even after I told him that Shelagh woke for a few moments.”  
Patrick Turner was speechless, speechless, and upset with the one person that he trusted to care for his wife other than himself and Sister Julienne. He couldn’t take it anymore; he couldn’t leave Shelagh alone with only Sister Julienne only to be treated so poorly by the person who was supposed to be healing her. Was it time to take Shelagh to The London? Taking Shelagh away from familiar settings for better consultants and excellent staff who would help her improve and return home might have more dire consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *= I just wanted to be dramatic here, because I don't know about you, but I'm OVER Dr.Evans like none other (hilarious, because he's my own character!)
> 
> I'd dedicate this chapter to one specific person, but honestly, it deserves to be dedicated to all the readers who are ready to finish this rollercoaster.


	30. The Sun Also Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The end of a melody is not its goal: but nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either. A parable.”
> 
> \- Friedrich Nietzsche

For the next several hours, Patrick and Sister Julienne could only sit next to Shelagh, talking to her, praying for her, and singing songs that might bring her comfort if she was on the road towards her heavenly father. When they could sing no more, they turned to prayer and silence, fitting for a woman who began her time in Poplar observing hours of silence every day.

Then, like a shooting star across the night sky, Shelagh awoke for more than just a moment. Years later, Shelagh would recall the moment as though it felt like the fog had lifted, and she was in control of her body again.

“Patrick?” Shelagh whispered weakly.  
“I’m here, Shelagh. Sister Julienne is here as well. How are you feeling?”  
“Okay.”

With glances to speak between them, Patrick and Sister Julienne made a decision they would not regret. They decided that they would spend time with Shelagh before they alerted Doctor Evans. The trio spent the better part of the afternoon enjoying each other’s company and filling Shelagh in on the events during her slumber. Once Shelagh was sufficiently filled in, it was time to allow Doctor Evans to examine her. 

“Ah, Mrs. Turner. Glad to see you’ve returned to us. Now, I think it’s best if both of you would excuse yourselves from the room while I complete an examination on Mrs. Turner here.”

Luckily for Shelagh, Patrick, and Sister Julienne still could sense her non-verbal cues without evidence.

“I beg to differ, Doctor Evans, Shelagh has only just woken up. I’m sure she’d feel more comfortable if the two people she knows and trusts the most were with her.”

“Very well, then. I ask that if you are unwilling to leave the room, then you step away from the side of the bed.”

It was that moment when Patrick Turner’s faith and composure ran out.   
“Get out of my surgery. Now. Do not return.” Patrick Turner yelled suddenly at the top of his lungs.  
“I apologize, Doctor Turner, but I am the one in trust to care for your wife.”  
“Out. Now.” Patrick yelled again, louder.  
“You’d best be off Doctor Evans, Shelagh and Doctor Turner are the people who are in trust of this surgery, and who are responsible for its reputation. Be off with you.” Sister Julienne finally spoke up.

It was several hours before Shelagh, who had been upset by Doctor Evans’s commotion, was calm again, and everyone was sure that he was gone.

“Shelagh, I don’t want to upset you, but I should examine you to make sure that you’re alright.”  
“Please don’t make Sister Julienne leave.” Shelagh whimpered  
“I wouldn’t dream of it Shelagh, you need her just as much, if not more than me right now. Would you like her to hold your hand?”  
“Yes.” The look Shelagh gave him at that moment was one of pure love and gratitude. 

It was by no means a full physical exam, but rather a combination of vitals and checking eyes, ears, and the throat. It was enough to trust that Shelagh was okay and not overstep her unspoken boundaries at that moment. Once done, both Patrick and Sister Julienne could hear Shelagh’s silent plea for them to hold and comfort her. After a few hours, Sister Julienne excused herself back to Nonnatus to tell Timothy and Angela that Shelagh was awake, giving Patrick and Shelagh a chance to talk privately.

“How are you feeling, Shelagh?”  
“Oh, Patrick, I’ve never felt better.”  
“Shelagh, I know you’re scared. We’re here for you.”  
“I’m scared that I am going to get worse, Patrick. I’m scared that I’m not better.”  
“Shelagh, having this conversation is one step towards healing. Shelagh, are you afraid that you aren’t a good mother because of your depression.”  
“Yes,” The only meek whisper Shelagh could muster.

The rest of the night was spent comforting Shelagh and helping her understand that depression made her no less of a mother, nurse, secretary, and friend. Even seeing Timothy and Angela the next morning did not seem to help. It appeared as though even Sister Julienne was struggling to get to Shelagh.

“Shelagh,” Patrick probed one day as he took her hand.  
‘Yes, Patrick”  
“How would you feel about going home to Timothy and Angela.”  
“Oh, Patrick, do you think I’m well enough?”  
“Shelagh, I think having you home will help you heal more than spending your days in this room and rarely seeing a soul, aside from Sister Julienne and I. Shelagh, you need time and a safe place to heal. It won’t be instant or ever complete, but rather an ongoing process. Somedays will feel better than others. It might also help to have Angela and Timothy when you need someone to make you laugh or help you with overwhelming tasks.”  
“Okay,” Shelagh agreed after quite a while. However, she didn’t want Timothy and Angela to struggle with her problems, the prospect of having purpose glimmered above everything.

The first week was rough, but Trixie and Sister Julienne’s visits seemed to help, especially when Shelagh could catch a rest on the Settee. Then it was like something turned on a dime. Shelagh was becoming gradually more anxious to stay home with Timothy and Angela without another adult present. It wasn’t helping that she did not sleep that well at night either. The final straw was coming home to Shelagh sobbing on the floor of the kitchen, whispering something about being a “failure of a housewife” through her tears. 

Through the grapevine, news of Northfield’s new Family Residential Program made it’s way to Patrick. It seemed like the answer to helping Shelagh. The program structure made it so that Timothy would continue his studies while he and Angela remained with Shelagh. It also allowed Sister Julienne to come as a companion, allowing Patrick to continue working and visit on his off days. Although it was unusual when Shelagh didn’t have a protest to going away, it confirmed to Patrick that she needed time outside of Poplar to grieve and heal. 

After six months away, Shelagh returned to the flat part-time under the observation of Sister Julienne and her team at Northfield. A further six months of the part-time arrangement passed before a two-week trial of full-time home living occurred, ending with Shelagh returning to Poplar permanently, under the care of her new team at Harley Street.

In the years following, Shelagh appeared to return to her “old self.” Yet, Patrick, Shelagh, and Sister Julienne could attest that bad days still came up, albeit less severe than before treatment. Even during her pregnancy, when Shelagh’s team insisted on watching her like hawks, she remained stable. 

When the choir began ‘O Nata Lux’ that year, Shelagh felt the song’s truth in her heart. Looking among the faces in the pew with her, Shelagh felt a weight lift off her chest. As tears of joy and gratitude slipped down her face, she pressed a kiss on her smallest boy’s head. 

Domine, dona nobis pacem. 

Finis.

**Author's Note:**

> Stuffing is actually a common theme in (at least) school counseling from my personal experience. Stuffing does not only occur with grief or sadness but rather almost any emotion to be had by a human being. 
> 
> On a serious note: If you (or someone you know) are experiencing suicidal thoughts or have voiced the desire to commit suicide please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (USA) at 1-800-273-8255. YOU matter YOUR LIFE matters.
> 
> (I have a platform, and I intend to use it for good, not harm.)


End file.
